Maiden's Mercy
by missalohahula
Summary: "I knew that a Southern maid would not be appreciated in the North. I made the decision to raise you among my own... There is more to you and Jon than your name. I wanted the Northern Houses to see it. I wanted you to come here and see the court, the other Houses here in the South. I wanted them to see you." A story where Lord Stark bought two babes to the North.
1. Part 1:Bastard from the North -Chapter 1

**-This is AU but some elements** **remain the same as the show** _ **Game of Thrones**_ **as well as the book. It will not be completely accurate. Major changes won't happen until later chapters.  
\- There are a lot of 'what if' scenarios in this story. It may have been done before but I wanted to write this and see where it would lead. I have the plot somewhat written out and have not planned on changing things on it so far – but I am open to suggestions.  
\- I have been a fan of House Stark so this will be centered around them.  
\- I will get things wrong and I ask that you bear with me.** **  
-** **The ages for some of the characters have changed.  
\- I do not write a whole lot of lemons/smut.  
\- And the biggest gripe for some: my main character is a bit of a Mary Sue.**

 **Full Summary:**

 **"Once they see the terms for your betrothal to Torrhen Karstark, they will know."**

 **"Know what exactly," Nysa questioned at the ominous tone in Lord Stark's voice.**

 **He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. His eyes were haunted. "If people knew," he paused and turned back to her. "There are too many ears here, I'm sure you know that." Nysa nodded, understanding that she would still not be getting the full scope of it all. "After the war, I knew that a Southern maid would not be appreciated in the North. I made the decision to raise you among my own. In truth, I had been praying that by sending you to assist Lady Glover, Lady Karstark and Lady Umber that you would earn the respect of their Houses, the respect of the North. They are great Houses."**

 **"They are, my Lord," she agreed.**

 **"I tried to do the same with Jon as well but after that incident at the Dreadfort, it seemed to detract from the good he had to offer. And Lord Bolton..."**

 **"Lord Bolton should learn to control his son," Nysa spat out. "I will not wed Ramsay. Forgive me Lord Stark but that is one thing that I find I will protest with every fiber of my being."**

 **"There is no need for that," he smiled, "I would not subject the daughter of a Lannister to such a union." Nysa bit her bottom lip to hide her smile. "There is more to you and Jon than your name. I wanted the Northern Houses to see it. I wanted you to come here and see the court, the other Houses here in the South. I wanted them to see _you._ "**

 **Disclaimer:**

 **I do not own anything. Credit goes to George R. R. Martin.**

* * *

 **Part 1  
Bastard from the North**

 **Chapter 1**

The air this afternoon was warmer than it ever would have been in Winterfell. There was a sense of calm that seemed to breathe throughout the entire keep. It was peaceful despite the voices that carried within them. Even outside of the walls there was found contentment on the faces of the people as they went about their duties. Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, watched his eldest son Robb walk with the young woman known throughout the North as Nysa Snow.

She was often found spending time with Robb or Jon, Lord Stark's son. Nysa is the sister of Jory Cassel, a loyal captain of the guard. After Robert's Rebellion, Lord Stark had returned to Winterfell with three little children - Robb, Jon and Nysa. And Gods, have those three children grown since then.

Now Eddard watched as Robb held Nysa's hand and she smiled up at him. A bundle of grey fur in Nysa's other hand made a noise causing both Robb and Nysa to laugh. She settled the dire wolf pup down which it did not take to well to. It pawed at her dress before taking off to chase after something Robb had pointed out. Lord Stark smiled at seeing how happy they were, before a figure came to stand at his side.

"I remember telling you years ago, that there would be trouble for us with the two of them," his wife's voice teased. He felt the gentle pressure of her arm link with his and her head rest on his shoulder. "Has he told you anything about it?"

Lord Stark sighed, causing his wife to move her head and look warily at him. "No, he has not. And am I to assume she has not spoken of it to you?" His wife shook her head. "Then we will wait," he gave a small nod, "besides her Uncle gave explicit instructions regarding her being given in marriage."

Eddard wanted to discuss more on the matter of Nysa's marriage. He sighed heavily and thought to himself that if his son did not say anything soon, he'd have to reply to the other Lords who had inquired about her hand. Majority of them were second-born sons of second-born sons - nephews or cousins to the Lord of the House. And despite how fortunate the circumstances were for a bastard to wed into a noble House, Lord Stark had to send out letters refusing the alliances.

There were three reasons behind such letters. For one, Lord Stark knew that there would be a better offer out there for Nysa - and one of those options might be his own son. Second, was the fact that her Lord Uncle from the South would not agree to her wedding some nephew or cousin to the Lord. No, Lord Stark thought. Nysa's Southern Lord Uncle wouldn't settle for anything less than an heir. And third, Jory hadn't liked any of the proposals either.

Jory had denied Lord Locke's proposal to wed Nysa to his nephew, Ser Donnel Locke. It's not that he disliked the House. Lord Locke's sister, Lady Sybelle Glover, held Nysa in high regard after she had been sent to Deepwood Motte for some time. She had also written a letter stating that her nephew would treat Nysa kindly. But Nysa had never met Ser Donnel - who was twice her age. Jory did not want to subject his sister to that.

House Ryswell had sent their letter for a proposal to Lord Rodrick's third-born son, Roose, causing Jory to spend the entire day in the yard beating a practice dummy to pieces. He had almost sent it to Lord Rodrick as his answer. But Nysa had placated him before any rash actions were taken and Lady Stark had been the one to answer the proposal with an affirmative 'no'.

"There seems to be much on your mind regarding the young Nysa," Lord Stark's wife interrupted his thoughts then.

"She is old enough to be betrothed."

His wife shook her head. "Some thought she was old enough when she was only one and ten."

He turned to her and smiled kindly. "Perhaps I should speak to Robb, ask him if he desires to make Nysa his wife," he suggested.

Lady Catelyn sighed softly.

"There was another letter that came for her," Lord Stark added while handing it to his wife.

Lady Catelyn took it and scoffed when her eyes rested on the seal. "From the Dreadfort," she looked intently at her husband then, "You are not allowing that girl to go there, are you?"

Eddard answered with a chuckle. "After what happened the last time we went there?"

"Or when they recently visited here," she added with disbelief lacing her voice.

He chuckled again, "I would be a fool to agree to this," he gestured to the letter. "I spoke to Jory about it, offered him my opinion."

"What does he think of it?"

Again, the Lord of Winterfell began to laugh. "One look from him confirmed my thoughts on the matter. He will never let the girl wed Ramsay Snow. Then again, I highly doubt he'd allow his sister to wed anyone. He is loath to part from her. She is," he cleared his throat, "to him she is all that he has left."

"The girl has seen sixteen name-days, Ned," Catelyn spoke softly. "I hope you have informed Jory of that. I understand his refusal for the first two considering her young age. But now that she has grown, she should wed. There have been other offers," she reminded him. "What of Lord Karstark's offer? Both you and Jory felt that was the best option."

"It is not only Jory that needs convincing."

"Her Lord Uncle," Catelyn guessed as Eddard nodded.

"He wants to meet the girl," Eddard interrupted her. "He has a few that he would wed her to."

Catelyn scoffed, "Nysa would never chose someone from the South, you know that. Her heart is here in the North. And even if our son never asks for her hand then you know that there is always House Kar..."

"My Lord?"

Both Catelyn and Eddard turned to see Maester Luwin approaching. He let out a small huff - perhaps because he had been searching for the pair of them for a while. The look on his face told them that it rather important news.

"From the Capitol, my Lord," he held out the letter.

* * *

Nysa sat next to her brother and their Uncle, Ser Rodrik, down in the hall as they ate their sup. They both talked about the news of Lord Arryn's death. He had been a dear friend to Lord Stark. The best way for Jory to explain it to her - some time ago - had been the same way she viewed Lord Stark was the same he viewed Lord Arryn, perhaps even more than that. She had heard stories about how Jon Arryn had cared for Lord Stark in his youth. She also knew that Lord Arryn had married Lady Catelyn's sister, therefore there was much reason for the Stark family to be upset.

She turned away from her brother and Uncle who were still in discussion about Lord Arryn's death to see that her cousin, Beth was copying her as she usually would. Nysa nodded to Beth in approval at seeing her conduct which caused Beth to smile widely before continuing to eat her meal. She had just begun to eat her own meal when a small breadcrumb hit the side of her face. Nysa's head whipped around to see Jon with an apologetic look on his face.

Jon made a motion with his hand for her to hurry. Nysa took a few more bites greedily, before grabbing a few things from the table.

"And where are you off to," asked Ser Rodrik.

"I," Nysa paused and then turned to Jory. She gave him a small look of frustration, pleading for him to help her.

Lately their Uncle had been exasperating her. It was merely because he too disproved of the letters that were coming to ask for her hand. Ser Rodrik was convinced that some of them were mainly using her for the gifts she'd receive from her Lord Uncle in the South. It was obvious that he came from a wealthy noble House. If the girl was to choose a husband, it should be someone she chose. More than that he did not want her to leave Winterfell either. She would visit with other northern Houses - Deepwood Motte, Karhold, Last Hearth, Torrhen's Square, Bear Island and once she even traveled to the Dreadfort with Lord Stark. But Ser Rodrik knew who adored Nysa despite her birth and those who were taking advantage of her because of it. Being in service to House Stark, taught him that family was important and this young woman was his family.

"It is dark outside and you shouldn't be wandering about," Ser Rodrik warned her.

"I do not wander. Jory," she pleaded with him again.

Jory shook his head at her before looking at their Uncle. "She is not a child anymore, Uncle. I think we can allow her to have a night's stroll."

"As long as you stay within Winterfell's walls," Ser Rodrik gave Nysa a stern look.

"When have I ever gone out of them after nightfall," Nysa smiled innocently. Both Jory and their Uncle with incredulous expressions. "It happened once and the entire keep causes a scene about it," she waved her hand through the air. Jory scoffed at her mention of it only happening once. "Okay twice," she answered before sighing and looking to her feet, "alright it happened more often than it should have. But Uncle, I was hardly in any danger. And the last time it was because Robb and Theon were daring Jon and I to accompany them."

"Aye, my niece is the supposed 'innocent' one in the company of youth around Winterfell," Ser Rodrik chuckled as Jory smiled at her, knowing that she could not fool their Uncle as easily as she did the others. "I do not want to hear of any trouble. If for some reason..."

"Thank you, Uncle," she kissed his bearded cheek before picking up her skirts and hurrying after Jon.

"No more trouble, you hear me," he called after her as Jory shook his head. "You go too easy on the girl," he told his nephew.

Jory smiled again.

"But a girl she is no longer," Ser Rodrik reminded him. "Lord Stark has told me of..."

"She is not going to the Dreadfort," Jory almost slammed his fist down on the table, "and neither am I having her wed some Southern lord."

Ser Rodrik sighed. "Her Uncle has listed some potential offers?" Jory nodded. "And I'm sure you've heard of the letters to Lord Stark regarding her hand?" Again, he nodded. "There must be someone you have in mind."

"I rather not talk on the subject."

Ser Rodrik laughed heartily then. "As mentioned earlier, nephew, she is not a child anymore. Your own mother married at her age. Beth's mother was the same age as well. Surely you knew that this day would come."

Jory stood up then and shook his head. "After what happened at Karhold, I doubt Nysa would give her heart away again. And I know that wedding someone is different among other Houses. Some are done for political gain. But not for me and not for Nysa. We talked about this two years pass when she returned from Karhold, crying. We both agreed that when she was ready to approach the subject, she'd make the first move. I won't force her hand, no matter what her Lord Uncle in the South says."

* * *

Light from the moon shone down on the two figures as they walked outside of Winterfell's walls. Yes, Nysa had agreed to stay inside but both her and Jon loved the woods. She knew the guard's patrolling the gate and which ones were not so good at their job. She warned Jory that some of them were not fulfilling their responsibilities to the full but he did not listen and so that was how she could get her and Jon outside.

"We are going to get in trouble," Jon told her.

"When do I ever get in trouble," she asked.

Jon snorted at that. Her brother is the captain of the guards and her Uncle, the master-at-arms in Winterfell. He had taught many of the younger guards how to fight, including Robb and Jon as well. A lot of people held respect for both Ser Rodrik and Jory Cassel. Nysa would get in trouble - the same as Robb and Jon would - but for some reason her punishment did not seem as severe. One cry to her brother and that was all it took for her to get away with it. More than likely, she'd cry to Jory again if they were caught tonight. Of course, her crying did have limits and they seldom worked with Lord and Lady Stark, especially when she got older.

"Perhaps not as often as you should," Jon muttered under his breath. However, Nysa had heard and responded by hitting his side with a small branch. He turned to grab her only to have her run away from him.

Ghost had accompanied them and began to yelp in excitement as he and Jon ran after Nysa. She was fast in the keep, navigating around the walls, tables, wells and stables. But out here in the woods, Jon always had the advantage.

Eventually he did catch her as they both tumbled down onto the cold floor of the woods. Ghost came charging in at Nysa then, licking her face and barking. She smiled as she pried the pup away and settled him in her lap. Jon caught his breath as he sat up next to her. Nysa smiled at him before looking off into the woods.

He liked it when it was just the two of them. He knew that lately she and Robb had grown closer - closer than was probably considered proper. Despite that, Jon also knew that there would always been a bond between him and Nysa. He did not know what it was but he knew it was there. Perhaps it was the fact that they were both bastards. He remembered the day so clearly when she had been called one, when they both had been called one.

Embarrassingly, Jon also recalled a night that he wanted to forget - the night he called Lady Stark 'mother'. It was a reminder that he may have been Robb's brother but would never have the same future as he would. He had threatened to run away, to the very woods that they sat in. Nysa had declared that she'd go with him.

 _I don't know who my mother is either_ , she had told him that night in the woods.

They were discovered within hours by the guards who had gone to search for them. And for some reason since that day, Jon would always tell her his feelings and thoughts. She'd support him, stand by him. With Robb, he always felt that distinction but that was never the case with Nysa.

"What is on your mind tonight," she suddenly asked. Jon shook his head and did not turn back to her. "Surely there must be something you are thinking about that caused you to drag me out here," Nysa pressed before smiling, "in the cold and sitting on the dirt."

"You're used to the cold already," he nudged her leg with his own.

Nysa noticed the small twitch in his lips. He rarely smiled now days. It had become her personal mission to make him smile. Though she considered it might have been easier to get Theon to spend more than two nights away from a brothel than it would be to get Jon to smile and laugh again.

"I'm not used to being impatient," she teased.

He scoffed before clearing his throat, causing her to hit his arm.

"Tell me already Jon!"

He finally smiled then and his shoulders shook lightly with soft laughter. If only he could always feel this carefree. "Why do you have to hit me so?"

"Why do you have to tease me so with prolonging whatever valuable information you have?"

"It's hardly valuable," he replied.

"Well, then tell me. Don't keep me in suspense."

Jon sighed. "I hear that Roose Bolton asked for you to wed his son."

Nysa snorted before adjusting her body to face Jon's. "Both my brother and your father would never allow it. Marriage to Ramsay Snow," she made a gagging noise before shaking her head. "Honestly I'd rather wed a pig."

Jon laughed before quieting down again. "No one asked for me to wed someone."

Nysa stared intently at him. "Did you want to wed? Is there a young woman who has caught your eye?" Jon smiled because there was no one and shook his head. He enjoyed teasing Nysa. "So there is valuable information that you are to impart to me?" He really had her interest piqued now. "I feel as though you are about to unleash some secret betrothal on me, Jon. Tell me just one thing, have you informed your father?"

"No, it is that much of a secret," he closed his eyes.

"Oh," she gasped in excitement. "Who is she? Please tell me."

"She's beautiful and lovely, like the snow falling in the woods. She has a wonderful voice - one to sooth any babe to sleep. And the way her body moves in my dreams," Jon's smile widened then and she hit his arm knowing that he was playing her. "Forgive me, I could not help myself."

"You are impossible," she huffed but smiled nonetheless. "Seriously though Jon. Is there someone you want to wed?"

He shook his head. "No, but even if there was, I would not be allowed to wed before Robb. Robb is heir and he would have his choice of bride. But I am restricted to, well," he snorted, "I would probably marry a bastard as well or perhaps someone else. I have no name to pass on, no inheritance that will be given me."

"Lord Stark would give you something."

"Lady Catelyn would refuse it," he retorted. "I don't belong here, Nysa. I heard Lady Stark urging my father to hide me."

"Surely you heard wrong," she insisted. "Jon, Lady Catelyn has been generous with you and I, far more than any Lady would with a bastard child. Didn't she just compliment you the other day on your training with Bran? She was impressed with your skill - said that you command an army if you wanted to. She'd never request to hide you away."

"She wanted the same of you."

Nysa shook her head. "You're wrong."

"I do not mean to upset you, Nysa. I just wanted to warn you. The raven that arrived today with news of Lord Arryn's death also stated that the King is coming to Winterfell. And in preparation for the King, Lady Stark does not want you and I around."

"But," her bottom lip almost started to tremble. "But, that's not possible. Lady Stark..."

"Lady Stark doesn't want two bastards present while the King comes to visit," his voice firmer and louder, causing Ghost to whimper.

Jon picked up a nearby stick and began tapping the ground lightly with it. It was a reaction he would have that was associated to being frustrated with himself. Nysa had seen it many times before.

"I do not belong here. I was thinking of leaving again but this time I am certain. It'll be easier for Lady Stark and the others if I'm gone."

"Where will you go," she touched his arm before he shook it off.

"Somewhere you cannot," he replied.

Immediately she jumped up, knowing of only one place that he was implying he'd go to. "You are mad!"

Jon matched her. "I can belong there!"

"You are still young, Jon! What if you decide you want a family? What if..."

"I have no family," he shouted at her.

Nysa's bottom lip trembled before she looked away. "What happened to you and I being family? What happened to us being the same? You are like a brother to me, Jon. You said so yourself, that you consider me your sister. Are we not family?"

"You will marry and have your own family," Jon answered. Nysa shook her head again. "You will," he assured her with a small smile. "You have choice for husband. You have a Lord Uncle in the South who is also arranging for marriages. In time, there will be so much happiness for you that you will forget about me at the Wall."

"No," she yelled, her voice echoing in the woods. "You are not going Jon! I forbid it!"

Jon looked away as the tears ran down her face.

"You can come with me when I wed, whoever it is that I wed," she wiped her face furiously. "Yes, that is what is to be done. You will not go to the Wall, anyplace but there. I will wed and you will come to serve as my personal guard. That is final."

"No matter where I go with you, I'll still be a bastard."

"I cannot change your mind?" He looked at her to see that she was greatly distressed by this. "Nothing at all," she asked again. "Okay," she lifted her chin, "if you go to the Wall then I am going to wed Ramsay Snow!"

"Do not say that!"

"I am!"

"No, you are not!"

"Then you are not going to the Wall!"

"Yes, I am!"

She began walking pass him, jumping over tree roots and branches.

"Where are you going," he asked as she picked up her pace.

"I am going back to Winterfell to inform Lord Stark that I will wed Ramsay Snow!"

"No, you are not," he determined by throwing his body at hers.

The two of them wrestled harder this time around. Ghost barked as he watched a distance away from them. Nysa angrily slapped Jon's face or arms while her legs kicked out at his. She was strong and had learn some things from Lyra Mormont but Ser Rodrik had also taught Jon some things as well. In her emotional state, Jon gained the upper-hand and could subdue her.

"Go to the Wall then," she shouted from under him, continuing to push at and hit him. "Go! Be gone with you!"

It was not long until the tears began to flow again. Jon moved off from her, leaned against a nearby tree root and pulled her to his side. His hand rubbed her back as she continued to cry into the night. He began to cry as well - quietly of course and not as violently. He did not want to leave her. He did not want to leave any of his family or Winterfell. But it was not completely and utterly his to possess, nothing was.

He was introduced to many of the Northern Lords who would visit but he was kept away from their wives. He knew that there were others - like he and Nysa - who were the bane of existence for the Lady of the House. As they grew older he noticed the whispers that father had tried to keep from him. He often caught Lady Stark staring at him with sadness in her eyes. She never said anything cruel. In fact, her comments - though brief and short - were kind. But none of that would erase what he was, a bastard.

He knew that Nysa would understand a bit of his predicament and therefore the reason why he had shared it with her first and foremost. She had her fair share of ill-treatment when being present at other Northern Houses. But here was the strong difference, Lady Catelyn's glances towards Nysa were joyful ones. Her kinds words were abundant. And that hurt the most.

"I do not want you to go," Nysa whispered, breaking away from her sobbing. "At least wait until Jory finalizes a betrothal for me. I do not want to be here when you say goodbye."

Jon could not help but chuckle. "So, you wish for me to suffer the pain of seeing you leave me instead of me leaving you?"

"It will help me feel better, yes," she smiled softly.

"I wish you all the happiness," he kissed her forehead. "I will miss you, sister."

"And I will miss you, brother," she pulled away to look at him.

"Once you have sons there will be no need to miss stubborn old Jon Snow."

"I think I will name one of those sons after you and then I'll pray to the Gods that he does not have your stubborn personality."

Jon smiled teasingly. "You should ask Torrhen Karstark if he will permit that." Nysa slapped his arm lightly causing him to laugh. "Are you still burning his letters?"

Nysa folded her arms and huffed. "I cannot believe I told you."

"I wager that my father and Jory will receive a letter from him requesting for your hand soon."

She shook her head at the assumption. "I made a fool of myself the last time I went to Karhold. And when Alys was betrothed the year before, I refused to go to the feast. Lord Karstark would not permit his son to wed me - even if Torrhen had wanted to, which he does not. Lord Karstark is a proud man."

Jon bit his lip and looked away. He knew of the letters that Torrhen Karstark, Lady Mariah Karstark and Lord Rickard Karstark had sent to his father and Jory Cassel. Father had discussed the matter with Lady Catelyn while Robb and Jon sat there breaking their fast. Robb may have come to care about Nysa but they all knew that there was some sort of understanding between Nysa and Torrhen - even if she refused to acknowledge so.

"Does this have anything to do with Robb," he questioned. She eyed him warily. "Or is it not my place to ask what is happening between you and my brother?"

Nysa softened her gaze and sighed. "I do not know where I stand with Robb. I am confused with him far more than I ever had been with Torrhen."

"You feel more for Torrhen," he stated more so than questioned.

"It hurts with Torrhen. It pains me to burn his letters. It haunts me to wander what he calls me in them, whether he laughs and mocks me or if by some sort of miracle, he returns my feelings. Robb is a dear friend. He makes me feel wanted in a way that I wish Torrhen would. He makes me laugh, talks to me, comforts me," she smiled shyly and mumbled the last part but Jon caught it. "I care for both. It is not as deep with Robb."

"But if Robb were to say something," he pressed.

"I think," Nysa smiled before blinking her eyes and shaking her head, "No, Robb and I could never be. He is heir to Winterfell and I am only a bastard girl."

"Robb has never called you one," Jon replied. "And what were you going to say before that?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing," Jon questioned before snorted. "I believe you were going to say something. Such as, you could see yourself wed to Robb. You make one another happy and have a good relationship as friends. Imagine it - your Uncle, the master-at-arms. Your brother, the captain of the guard. And you, you would be Lady of Winterfell."

"Stop it," she pushed away from him, frustrated at both of them. Jon for stating how she truly felt and herself, for allowing her mind to dwell on such folly. "Robb would never accept me as his wife. The same way Torrhen pushed me away at Karhold. I am a bastard. Lord Karstark wouldn't allow it. And Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark - as kind as they have been to me - would never allow it, either."

"You understand my feelings then," he gestured.

Realization lit up her eyes as she gasped. Jon had painted that picture to help her see that there was nothing she or he could do about their future - others would decide it for them. That's just how things worked.

"We have the blood of nobility but not the name. And you for your part, are fortunate to receive the proposals that you have. You should count myself blessed indeed," he said as she snorted.

"I long for a man who does not desire me. I care for another who cannot have me. Yes," she nodded, "I do understand your feelings so I," Nysa cleared her throat, "I will begrudgingly allow you to go to the Wall."

"Well in that case, since I have your permission," Jon stood and made a short bow to her, "I will speak to my father about it then, Lady Nysa."

"You seriously have not told anyone, yet?"

Jon held out his hand to her. Nysa took it and was pulled to stand. "I wanted you to be the first to know. I wanted your approval. You truly mean a lot to me, Nysa. I may be going somewhere that I will gain many brothers but they will not replace my sisters here, and that includes you."

Nysa threw her arms around Jon and began to cry - tears of joy this time. He responded the same, wrapping his arms about her waist and holding her close. There was nothing arousing about it as he had heard Theon gloat about when embracing a woman. Nor was it the same pleasure that Robb described upon having Nysa close to him. No, Jon thought, this was something else. They were friends. They were family. Because unlike the others, he and Nysa had the same name. _We are the same_ , he remembered her words. Yes, he and Nysa would always be family.

"I will miss you."

"Aye, so will I," he replied, giving her body a quick squeeze.

* * *

Jory could not help but notice Nysa seemed a bit down-heartened since that night she had escaped Winterfell's walls. Wyl mentioned it to him the next morning that her and Jon were spotted sneaking their way back in the gate. They would have gone by undetected until Jon had slipped, causing some rocks to clatter and Nysa to release a laugh at his expense. He reprimanded his guards for not seeing them exit but he had yet to speak to Nysa about it.

They all stood outside of the keep, awaiting the arrival of the King. Nysa and Jon usually stood behind the family, next to him and Ser Rodrik. But today, Lord Stark had Jory line the guards up in a different arrangement - after securing the castle and nearby roads. His next thought would be that Nysa would come to stand by him. But she departed quickly from that position as well. He wondered why she had left his side and his guards to stand by Maester Luwin with Jon. It was not until he realized how far away they were from the front that he remembered 'why' the two of them had been separated from the public in such a fashion.

"Rumor is that Lady Catelyn asked Lord Stark to keep Jon and your sister away from the King and Queen," Alyn whispered next to him.

Briefly he prayed that Nysa had not known of it. She looked up to Lady Stark, often thinking of her as a motherly-figure aside from Lady Umber and Lady Karstark - whom she also had spent much time with. Then again, he glanced at his sister, that could be the reason for her change in mood.

"Stag banners on the road," called Wyl, waking Jory from his thoughts.

Jory nodded to him before urging his horse forward. He shouted a few commands to the guards around him as they got into position.

"My Lord Stark," Jory nodded to him as he rode into the yard. "The King approaches."

Lord Stark nodded his thanks. "Open the gate for him."

* * *

Hand of the King, Ned said in his head. Hand of the King and a Prince as a good-son, was the offer. It was a most advantageous match. Ned knew that his father would have accepted it quickly. They would be down in the hall celebrating, toasting to the betrothal of a prince - heir to the Iron Throne - and that of a young Lady of the North. Sansa would adore the idea. It was something she had been dreaming of throughout her short life.

He had been receiving letters for the young Nysa and had neglected to think of a match for his own daughter. In truth, he knew that at one time Domeric Bolton was considered. It was the reason why they had visited the Dreadfort when Domeric returned. There was also the invitation for Sansa to go to Karhold to assist Lady Karstark with the birth of their daughter, Alys. But Sansa was still young and he had sent Nysa in her stead - a political move he and Catelyn had been working on since she had come home with them from the war.

Sansa was thirteen now and it was time he thought of his own daughter. She longed to see the South. But he also knew that nothing good came out of a Stark going South.

Hand of the King, the title repeated itself in his mind. That was a high price to pay indeed. He loved Robert, viewed him as a brother. And Robert had called Ned his only true friend that he had left. Even if he were to go, who would watch the North? Who would watch his family?

"My Lord husband," Catelyn walked into the Godswood then. Ned smiled at her, glad for the distraction and held his hand out for her to walk towards him. "I hope that this will not be the last time you and I are here together."

"I have not accepted the King's offer," he told her, bringing her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss against them. "And I have my duty to you and our family to think of. Robert is my dear friend but I am sure there is someone else he could find."

Catelyn raised her other hand from under her cloak and produced a letter. "This arrived from my sister."

Ned looked warily at the letter before pulling his wife with him to walk further into the woods. "How does she fare?"

"She sounds troubled. She blames the lions."

He stopped at once, looking around the woods. "And in what detail?"

"She does not say much."

"Those are treasonous words."

"Lysa is scared, Ned. She has gone back to the Eerie. Why else would she leave unless something has frightened her? Have you asked the King about it?"

Ned sighed. "There are many things on his mind. He hates the crown and the responsibilities that come with it. He fears for his son and how he will be raised. He offered me the position," he took a deep breath before finishing with, "as well as marriage."

"Marriage," Catelyn's voice was shocked but her eyes betrayed it. She had a feeling that King Robert might attempt to sway her husband with other means.

"Yes, we had a small disagreement at the crypts just now."

"About marriage?"

"When he spoke of uniting a Stark and a Baratheon, he said that finally it would happen. He had longed for a Baratheon and Stark match. And do you know why that is? He still talks of his love for a woman who is dead."

"May I remind you, my Lord husband that you love that woman as well."

"It is not the same," he shook his head. "Do you think of Brandon still?"

"Why would you ask that of me? After all these years, after I have borne you five children, after I have made this place my home," she looked around and then back at him. "After all this time and you believe I think of him still?"

"Forgive me," he kissed her forehead. "I just was wondering about something that Robert said. After all these years, after being married to another, he still thinks of her. I know that you loved my brother. I know that..."

"I told you that I love you, Eddard Stark. I am yours," she took his hand and kissed it, "and you are mine. You have a sweet and just soul. And I am happy to call you my husband. You cannot continue to compare yourself to him."

"Do you miss him?"

"I have not thought of him in some time. I do not picture him in your place."

"I love you Cat. I just..."

"You have never had to chase after my love, Ned." Catelyn took his hand and led him further into the woods. "And If you are suggesting that I am like Robert who speaks of love for his dead betrothed and not his wife then may I warn you, husband," she looked over at him. "Do not compare our marriage to theirs," she huffed causing Ned to chuckle.

"You do not like the Queen?"

"I did not say that," Catelyn lightly slapped his arm. "I simply forgot how well some use their manners as armor." Ned looked at her confused for a moment. "You will see when you travel to King's Landing. The people are not as forgiving there."

"If you remember lady wife, the words are that the _North remembers_ ," he said teasingly.

"I remember," she leaned forward and kissed his lips. "I also remember a certain hot spring here that will help one to relax."

"Is my wife trying to seduce me?"

Catelyn simply turned away from him and walked towards the spring. Ned followed after her. There was much weighing on his mind but a moment to relax with his wife could help with his thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"I love the wine here," Robert laughed merrily as he grabbed onto the serving girl. "I love the women here too!"

Catelyn glanced at the Queen who continued to sit there with a small smile upon her face. It was as if she had not noticed or simply did not care. Yes, she thought to herself, they use their manners well in the South.

"How do you like the North, your Grace," Catelyn attempted to distract the Queen. "I hear this is your first time."

Queen Cersei turned to her as her lips barely twitched upward. "It is lovely country."

"I remember my first time," Catelyn spoke. "I was so frightened of being away from family and in such a strange place. But my Lord husband has been very kind and generous."

It was then that the Queen's head snapped towards Catelyn and she realized her error. While Catelyn had Ned to turn to, it was obvious that the Queen would have to sit there and endure the humiliation of her husband 'comforting' another.

Cersei regarded the woman who sat next to her. It was once said that Catelyn Tully was a beautiful woman. Cersei looked at the woman who was the same age as her and thought to herself that the beauty in her died the moment she came to the North.

"I hear we may share a grandchild one day," she said, changing the topic to their children.

"I hear the same," Catelyn smiled in response.

"And where is your beautiful daughter? I have not seen her since we arrived."

"She sits there," Catelyn gestured towards the table.

Catelyn was about to call for her, when her eyes landed on Nysa. She was deep in conversation with Robb and Jon. She looked happy, sitting there and talking to them. Catelyn silently cursed. She had wanted to keep Nysa and Jon away from the King and Queen. But it seemed that in pointing out her daughter, she had brought attention towards the other young woman at the table.

"And who is that who sits beside your son," asked Robert.

"That is Lady Nysa," Catelyn answered. "She is sister to Jory Cassel, the captain of our guards."

"She looks oddly familiar."

"I doubt you know her Robert," Ned interrupted.

"Will she be willing to allow me to know her?" He bellowed with laughter as Lady Stark cast a look at her husband. "Call her here!"

"My love, perhaps you may allow her entertain the young Lords," Queen Cersei spoke then. "They need company as well. And one would think that..."

"Nonsense, call her," he elbowed Ned.

"Raya," Lord Stark called one of the serving girls. "Please go and ask Nysa to come to the head table."

The serving girl went towards the table where Robb sat, laughing with Jon and Nysa. Raya looked back at the head table one last time before whispering in Nysa's ears. Catelyn watched as Nysa's eyes widened before meeting her gaze. She sought out her husband's hand then, who squeezed it back. Nysa approached the table cautiously, every now and then shooting a look back towards Jon and Robb.

"My Lord, you wish to speak with me," she curtsied.

"How old are you," the King asked.

Her eyes shifted to Lord Stark before looking towards the King. "Sixteen, your Grace," she replied.

"You are pretty. You look almost like a young woman Ned and I knew," he laughed.

"I hardly doubt the Lord Stark knows as much young women as you do," the Queen said. "Come here child." Nysa walked slowly to stand in front of her. The Queen's hand quickly whipped out. Catelyn jumped, startled by the action. "Your eyes," the Queen held her face in her hands, "they look almost violet."

"They are a rich blue, your Grace," Lady Stark answered as the Queen released her face.

"I still think she looks familiar," the King laughed. "Would the lady allow me to..."

"Robert, must you," Ned urged him and looked towards the Queen.

The Queen merely smiled at him before turning towards Lady Catelyn. "My Lady, perhaps I could speak to your daughter now."

"Nysa, will you go and call Sansa for me? The Queen wishes to speak with her."

She looked towards Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark before picking up her skirts. "Of course. I will go and find Lady Sansa for you at once, my Queen," she curtsied before hurrying away.

"I cannot help it," Robert fussed. "I have seen the girl before," he pointed to her.

"Robert," Ned interrupted, "perhaps we shall go for a hunt tomorrow. I can show some of your men the country."

"Of course, of course," the King laughed. "I love a good hunt."

* * *

"Was that your Uncle Benjen I saw you speaking to while I was dancing," asked Nysa.

She and Jon were out in the yard. They had not planned on being so close to the King and Queen during the feast. In fact, Jon had protested going in. They had dined with the Lords and Ladies of the North during the harvest feast and other celebrations that were held in the hall. Jon reminded her that this was for the King and Queen - this time they should listen. But Nysa insisted that if they stayed seated so far that no one would have taken notice of them. That was until Robb had ventured over and asked Nysa to dance with him.

"You look handsome tonight," Nysa told Robb as they danced. She touched his face lightly. "I believe you have impressed the King and Queen."

"They are not the ones I seek approval from," Robb held her closer than was considered appropriate as they danced, causing her to blush and smile at him.

"Will you not tell me the same," she asked. "A lady would like to hear how she looks pretty this evening."

Robb shook his head causing Nysa to frown. "It would be a lie," he said in serious tone. Nysa almost pulled away in shame but Robb held her tight. "You are lovely every night." Nysa looked into his eyes as he smiled softly at her.

"Right then, Stark," Theon made his presence known. "Time for her to dance with a real man."

"Then I will release her when I see one," he shot back. But all Theon did was laugh as he pulled Nysa out of Robb's hold anyway.

Theon Greyjoy - a ward to House Stark - had danced with her, too. She had even convinced Jon to dance. The next thing they knew they were enjoying some wine at one of the tables with Robb and Theon when Nysa had gotten called over to the head table.

Lord Stark glanced at Jon causing him to take Nysa's hand after she had retrieved Sansa for the Queen and lead her outside. They had taken a risk going in. And maybe if they stayed out of sight now, they would not receive punishment for it in the morning.

Jon stopped, turning away from the training dummy. "My Uncle Benjen does not want me to go. He said the same as you," he nodded to her. "I am still young, I may want a family," he shook his head.

"It just," she sighed and her shoulders slumped, "it seems so sudden, this desire to go."

"I hear there is talk that Sansa will wed the Prince," Jon put his sword back on his belt. "If my father should accept, which I was told that he would, chances are he will take you with him. You will perhaps serve as a Lady in waiting for Sansa. Or maybe you may meet your Lord Uncle who lavishes gift upon you, every name-day."

"Jon..."

"The thing about that Nysa, is that you have somewhere to go," he pointed to her.

"I told you to come with me," she protested.

"Do you remember that day that Theon called us both 'bastard'?" She sighed and looked away. "Do you remember that day?" Nysa reluctantly looked at him and nodded. "Tell me about it," he asked, "tell me everything."

Nysa nodded again as Jon moved to sit by her. "Lady Catelyn had just given birth. We were playing out in the yard when we got the news."

 _***Flashback***_

 _The entire keep was bustling with the news about the birth of another Stark babe, the fourth child born to Lord Eddard and his wife Lady Catelyn. The couple already had three children. Their eldest Robb was racing towards the room where his mother was. Jon was not far behind him. Jon looked over his shoulder as they entered the Keep. That was his mistake._

 _Just then Nysa hurried past him, laughing and smiling as Jon fell behind._

 _"Nysa," Jon shouted for her as she ran through the Keep._

 _Several maids and servants laughed and shook their heads. Once Lady Stark was back on her feet, they knew the children would receive a thorough scolding for running as they were. Nysa ran past Robb this time, bunching her skirts higher to move her legs with more freedom._

 _"Catch her Robb!"_

 _Nysa released a squeal of delight as Robb attempted to grab her. It was not until Ser Rodrik had rounded a corner and snatched both Nysa and Robb in his arms that the race to see the new addition to Winterfell had ceased._

 _"Slow down there," Ser Rodrik chuckled as he settled the two back on their feet. They were growing quickly these days, he thought as Nysa ran hers hands down the front of her dress and Robb righted himself as well. Jon appeared behind them and started to do the same. "Aye, you make yourselves presentable. We would not want Lady Stark seeing you in such a fashion, now will we?"_

 _"No Ser," the boys shook their heads._

 _"No Uncle," Nysa gave him a small curtsy._

 _"Always so proper," he patted Nysa's head. "Tonight, your Aunt wants you and Jory over for sup."_

 _Nysa smiled and nodded. "I will let Lady Stark know."_

 _"Good," he nodded. "Let's go," Ser Rodrik then gestured to the two boys._

 _"Ait," a small voice shouted behind them to wait. "Ait, oomph."_

 _Jon tried to hold back a laugh as his sister, Arya Stark tripped over her dress. It had belonged to Sansa, the eldest Stark girl, and was obviously too long for the toddler. Nysa walked over and picked her up. Arya fidgeted a while. She did not want to wear the dress or any dress for that matter. Her nurses had all but given up on dressing her as a young lady ought to be - not just this morning but every morning. Sansa would sit there quietly and allow them to brush her hair for hours. But not Arya. Nysa seemed to be the only one who could get her to do it. Arya whined as Nysa continued to fuss over her._

 _"Your mother will be delighted to see you in it, don't you think," Nysa pressed._

 _Arya replied with a toothy smile in response. Both girls got on well with the other. And somehow Robb and Jon knew that despite the new baby, Arya would always be special to Nysa. It could have been because Nysa had been allowed to be in the room while Arya was born. It was something that Lady Catelyn insisted on. Nysa had only seen six name-days but she had proved to be a real help to the other nurses, the Maester and especially Lady Stark. Nysa was willing to give assistance wherever was needed and was soon to travel to Karhold to assist Lady Karstark with her birthing. Briefly Jon wondered if Nysa would be taking Arya with her to Karhold. It would be better for everyone if she did because of the tantrums Arya could cause but he highly doubted Lord Stark would allow it. Once Arya had settled back on her feet, she took Nysa's hand and they followed Ser Rodrik and the boys towards the room where the newest Stark awaited them._

 _Ned Stark smiled when he opened the door and welcomed all of them in. Nysa and Jon were planning on waiting outside until Lord Stark saw and ushered them into the room as well. Sansa had already been brought here and was staring with an uncertain look at the bed. Nysa bit back a laugh as she rounded the corner and saw Lady Stark trying to get Robb to carry his younger sibling._

 _"You have a new brother," Lord Stark said as Robb got scolding from his mother about the way he carried the babe._

 _Arya climbed up on the bed, sat down next to her mother and had been the second one to carry him. In truth, they had only lain the babe in her lap since Arya too was still small. Sansa had been frightened when he began to cry. So, she stated that she would wait until later._

 _"His name is Brandon," Lord Stark told Jon as he held him next._

 _Catelyn smiled at the boy who immediately moved his eyes away from her gaze. It happened just two moons prior that he had called her 'mother'. She had sewn and gifted him warmer clothing for his name-day. He had run to her arms and said 'thank you, mother'. She looked over at Ned and pried Jon's hands from her before running away. Ned had talked to him later, explaining that she was not his mother. Jon had shied away further from her since then, fearing that he had offended her._

 _She had to admit that at times it did hurt when she would hear people's whispers about Jon. There were speculations that had gone around about who his mother was when they first came to Winterfell. Ned made sure to silence them. But after that awkward name-day, they had begun to circulate again. Catelyn brushed them off the best that she could. She was Eddard's wife. She was the mother of his true-born children, the heir to Winterfell. And though Eddard told her constantly of his love and loyalty to her, it still hurt to hear the gossip._

 _A hand was placed on Nysa's shoulder - informing her that it was her turn - as she stepped forward and took the babe from Jon._

 _"He looks perfect, Lady Stark," Nysa commented as Catelyn smiled at her._

 _She, Robb and Jon were inseparable. Lord Stark's promise to Jory Cassel to raise her among his own had stayed true. Although, Lady Catelyn had hoped to get more female interaction for her other than taking care of little girls such as Arya and her cousin Beth Cassel. She had begun copying Lady Catelyn but there were times Catelyn often caught her causing havoc with the boys. It was as if Nysa would learn to be a proper Lady and then turn around and forget about all that she learned once she was with the boys. Yes, it was a good thing they would be sending her to Karhold soon._

 _"He looks too small to be a Brandon," Robb commented._

 _"All babies are small," Nysa told him._

 _"But he looks smaller than Arya did," Jon added._

 _"He was just born," Nysa argued. "You saw Arya after a couple days."_

 _"But Arya is already running like wild," Robb replied._

 _"No doubt because of her brothers," she teased._

 _Yes, Lady Catelyn thought, she would need to interact with other ladies soon._

 _Ned Stark smiled at the scene before him. The three of them truly had grown. Jory had recently become Captain and should have been given his own living but he declined. He knew that it would mean the moving of Nysa away from the keep. Being captain was a difficult job and with Nysa's growing mind, he was all too happy to allow Lady Stark to take Nysa under her care. And despite her obvious affection for Jory, it could be seen that she had an affection for Jon and Robb as well. They were like brothers to her too._

 _"You think you're so smart," Jon stuck his tongue out at Nysa._

 _"I am smart," she went to stamp on his foot._

 _"Fy," Arya cheered, "fy!"_

 _"There will be no fighting," Lady Stark chastised. Despite her being in bed, all three of the children stopped at the commanding tone in her voice. Brandon finally decided that he wanted out of Nysa's hold upon hearing his mother and began to squirm impatiently, kicking out his little legs._

 _"Bran," Arya pointed to him._

 _"It's pronounced Brandon," Robb tried._

 _"Brandon," Sansa said in a cheerful tone._

 _"That is right, Sansa," Lord Stark smiled at her. Sansa straightened out a bit in her chair at the acknowledgment. "But Arya might be onto something as well."_

 _"Perhaps we shall call him that," Lady Stark kissed Arya's forehead. "Bran," she whispered as Nysa took him back to the bed to give him to his mother._

 _There was a small moment of silence and smiles as the children watched mother and son. Septa Mordane then appeared to hurry the children out, particularly Sansa and Nysa. It was now time for Sansa to learn her curtsies and everything that was proper. Jon held a snicker back as Nysa left the room in all her politeness. He knew also that the moment she was done with lessons, another girl - that looked like Nysa but acted nothing like how a proper lady should - would be accompanying them as they ran about Winterfell._

 _"We have a new Lady that will be joining us today," Septa Mordane announced._

 _"A new Lady," Nysa paused in her walking causing Sansa to also stop. She turned back to the room where they had exited and wondered if Septa Mordane meant that someone would be replacing Lady Stark._

 _Sensing the confusion on her face, the Septa corrected her. "Another young Lady, like you and Lady Sansa," she smiled. "Do you know the steward Vayon?" Nysa nodded. "His daughter is older now, the same age as Sansa. It is time that she learns to behave properly as well and I expect you both to be on your best behavior."_

 _"We will," Nysa did a graceful curtsy and smiled politely._

 _Sansa saw this and immediately copied as well. Septa Mordane smiled in approval and continued._

 _Jeyne Poole had joined their lessons. She too had done the same as Sansa, copying Nysa as the best they could. Septa Mordane nodded in approval at the three of them. She called for a quick resting period seeing that they needed some refreshments before Nysa received a special lesson. She was getting older - she was told constantly. There were certain things that a young Lady her age would need to know._

 _"Here we are," Septa Mordane announced as a serving girl walked in with a tray of water and bread._

 _"And what are the young ladies learning today?"_

 _"Our curtsies," Sansa answered the serving girl as she demonstrated._

 _"That is wonderful, Lady Sansa," she smiled. "And what about you," she turned to Jeyne Poole who did the same. "And how are you getting on, Lady Nysa?"_

 _"Quite well, thank you," Nysa smiled before dipping into a graceful curtsy._

 _"Excellent," Septa Mordane smiled at all three. "Remember that a lady must always be modest."_

 _"Yes, Septa Mordane," all three replied as they sat and ate their bread._

 _"They are getting along very well, indeed," the serving girl stated. "Especially the Lady Nysa, no one would ever have suspected her to be a bastard the way she conducts herself."_

 _Septa Mordane quickly stood up, took the girl by the arm and escorted her towards the door. There were hushed comments between the two before the girl nodded. "I will call for someone to clean up later. That will be all," Septa said loudly._

 _Nysa did not know what the girl had said but she stood up abruptly and smiled. She had seen the girl and her brother whispering around corners in the castle. Of course, her brother always told the serving girls goodbye once his sister made her presence known. But Nysa had recognized their faces. It would do no good if Jory found out that she had been rude to the serving girl who seemed to be his friend._

 _"Thank you for the bread and water," Nysa curtsied as the girl nodded to her before disappearing. "Did Raya do something wrong?"_

 _"She said something that a lady should never speak of," Septa Mordane sat and gestured for Nysa to do the same._

 _"What was that word she used to call me?"_

 _"It meant nothing, my Lady. And as I said before, ladies do not say such things as that."_

 _The rest of the lessons were uneventful after that. Sansa and Jeyne were dismissed earlier so that Nysa could spend an hour with Septa learning about her 'special' lesson. Jory had stopped by after that to inquire after Nysa's lessons with the Septa. He praised her but did not bring up Raya or the incident earlier so she dismissed it before allowing him to escort her to the Maester's room. There was mention again about attending dinner with their Uncle and Aunt and she nodded in agreement._

 _Jory spoiled Nysa, entertaining her curiosity with the sword. He knew Lady Stark would be upset if she ever found out, their Uncle Ser Rodrick had warned him of that. But Nysa seemed entranced and would ask question after question about how something was done. He'd show something to her and then she'd critique him afterward. She had a keen eye for noticing an opponent's weakness, that much was certain by the way Jory could disarm several of the other guards under his command._

 _"Your sister is no longer allowed to give you advice, Cassel," his friend Wyl teased him one day. "Not if she helps you finish the fight like that."_

 _Nysa just turned to him and stuck out his tongue before stating, "A Lady does not start fights but she can finish them," she lifted her chin high and walked back into the keep as though she were a Queen, causing the entire yard to erupt in laughter._

 _Yes, his sister was adored all over Winterfell. She had that quality about her._

 _The Greyjoy boy came then and pulled at Nysa's hair causing her to hiss. Jory eyed him evenly before kneeling to Nysa's level. "Don't let that weasel bully you."_

 _"I never do," Nysa replied. "Don't worry, I'll get him back later. I always outsmart Theon."_

 _"I'm not surprised that you do," he playfully tapped her chin and then nodded for her to go into the room._

 _He gave the Greyjoy brat a menacing look before he left for his duties._

 _Theon Greyjoy had come the year before. Jory remembered how a few of the other Lords had disagreed with Lord Stark taking Theon in as his ward. They did not trust the Ironborn and sometimes neither did Jory. At first there was trouble between Theon and Jon. And because of trouble with Jon, that meant that Theon would be in trouble with Nysa - who would always come to his defense. Jory had been there on several occasions when Lady Stark counseled Nysa about being kind to others. He would smile the second they leave Lady Stark because Nysa would say something improper about hurting Theon._

 _In time, they had come to some sort of comradery. And Nysa being the obedient one out of them all had led the way in making Theon feel more welcome in Winterfell._

 _Today, they were learning about the great Houses once again. Maester Luwin always tread carefully on the subject knowing that Jon and Nysa were part of his lessons. But today it was hard to ignore._

 _"That is correct, Robb," the Maester praised as Robb turned to Nysa and smiled. She had been drilling the houses into him and Jon the other day as they were out riding with Ser Rodrick. "It is important that you know the sworn houses of House Tully since they are where Lady Stark comes from. Now Nysa," the Maester looked at her before turning away, "I would ask you to name a house in the Riverlands and their seat but chances are you know that, along with their sigil and their words. So, young Theon," he turned away._

 _"There is Seagard," he smiled, "my father does not like them."_

 _The Maester cleared his throat. "And who is Seagard's Lord?"_

 _"It belongs to House," he paused and looked outside, "House Mooton."_

 _Maester Luwin sighed. "No, it does not. Did you study for this?"_

 _"I did but the Riverlands' Houses are difficult."_

 _"Perhaps that is because your family is not from there," Nysa replied encouragingly. "I'm sure you could tell us about the Iron Island Houses."_

 _"My mother is from House Harlaw," Theon answered, "but that is all I know."_

 _"See," she smiled kindly at Theon, "that is something, right Maester Luwin?"_

 _"Aye, that is," he nodded. "Now let us..."_

 _"Where is Nysa's mother from?"_

 _It was an innocent question and Robb truly wanted to know. Nysa had told him that according to Jory her mother was a Southern lady - the same as his mother, Lady Catelyn. Perhaps her house was sworn to House Tully._

 _"Well," Nysa looked down thoughtfully, "both my brother and Lord Stark say that she is from a Southern House."_

 _"We know that," Robb groaned, "but which name is the House?"_

 _"She has no name," Theon piped up._

 _"But she must have a name, everyone has a name," Nysa turned towards him._

 _"Not your family," he leaned forward._

 _"That is enough for today," Maester Luwin attempted to stop the conversation but it was too late._

 _"You have no mother, Nysa," Theon told her. "Why do you think you have a bastard name?" Nysa turned to Maester Luwin who frowned at the young Greyjoy._

 _"What is a bastard," Jon questioned._

 _"That is what you and Nysa are," he answered. Maester Luwin went to stand up and walked towards him. "Remember Lady Stark said she was not your mother, Jon. That is because you have no mother. The same with Nysa," Theon nodded to her. "Both your fathers slept with whores and had children elsewhere."_

 _"You're lying," Nysa stood from her chair and shouted at him, "my mother was a Lady!"_

 _"I heard the kitchen maids talking about it," he shouted back at her._

 _"I said that is enough," Maester Luwin said in a firm tone._

 _Robb went to grab Nysa's arm but she shook it off. "I do have a family! I live here in Winterfell with my brother Jory and my Uncle Ser Rodrik and," she paused, "and Lady Catelyn takes care of us all. The Starks are family too!"_

 _"But you don't call either of them father or mother as Robb does. You can't even call Lord Stark 'father' as Jon does. I know I have a family out on the Iron Islands but as for you, your mother was a nobody," Theon retorted. "If she truly was a Lady, she would have wed your father instead of allowing him to dishonor her and father a bastard."_

 _"You're wrong about that," Jon stood up by Nysa. "Nysa is a Lady and you should not talk to her in such a way."_

 _"That's right and you can tell the kitchen maids that," Robb nodded in agreement._

 _"It doesn't erase the fact that a Snow is the name of someone who has no family, no house. Your brother may be captain of the guard but you will remain as nothing but a common girl, no matter what training you receive from Lady Stark. Lord Stark is just too honorable to tell you. And he feels he owes Jory because your father died fighting for him."_

 _"Stop it, you hear," Maester Luwin grabbed onto Theon._

 _"Why lie to them? Bastards do not deserve such kindness," Theon replied._

 _Nysa's bottom lip trembled for a bit. Maester Luwin began to reproach Theon for his conduct. Robb had just about settled his arm around Nysa's shoulders before she took off. Her eyes stung with tears and her heart felt like it had broken. She had followed Lady Catelyn around the past couple years since she had been carrying Arya. She felt like she was a daughter to her, she felt like family. Though, since Jon had spoken out last year and called her 'mother' she dared not do the same. She knew her mother had died. That's all that Jory had told her. She knew her mother was from the South, considering that she received gifts from there during her name-day. But she still felt like the Starks were family. Jory said she could think of them as her family. But what did Theon mean by she had none?_

 _This was the second day she had heard the word 'bastard' spoken as reference to her. She did not know what it meant when the serving girl had complimented her. It was something wrong, she knew that much since Septa Mordane had reprimanded her and then instructed Sansa, Jeyne and Nysa that there was to be no such talk like that among ladies. But what Theon said had hurt. He had called her mother a, she paused and shook her head. No Septa Mordane said that was a bad word, she should not say it._

 _"Lady Nysa," the nurse tending to Lady Stark tried to hold her back from entering the room._

 _"I must see Lady Stark!"_

 _"She is resting now. Come back later, my child," the nurse urged but Nysa shook her head and tried once more to get inside._

 _"Please I must," she cried._

 _"Let her in."_

 _Nysa immediately paled. She knew that voice. The nurse led her further in and to confirm her thoughts, Lord Stark was there, carrying Bran in his arms._

 _Ned had left earlier after the children but had decided once his duties were done to come back and keep his wife company. Unlike Arya and Sansa's birth, she did not feel as exhausted as she had been with them. Ned was surprised when his wife had asked for his presence. He had been missed at the birth of his first son, those precious new moments. And when he had sat on the bed next to his wife, he realized that there was indeed much joy in holding a newborn son. They had been sitting there, idly chatting about Brandon, Benjen and Lyanna - one of the few moments that they ventured on the subject of Lord Stark's siblings - when they heard Nysa's protests._

 _"Come here," Lady Stark smiled at her. Nysa walked slowly to the other side of the room and sat quietly down on the bed, wiping her face in embarrassment. She hardly ever cried in front of Lord Stark. A few times in front of her ladyship but never with Lord Stark present. "Are you worried about leaving us to journey to Karhold?"_

 _Nysa shook her head and looked up shyly at Lord Stark, wondering why she had believed Theon. She was smarter than Theon. Why did she let him goad her into such emotions?_

 _"Would you wish for me to leave the room," Lord Stark asked._

 _Nysa shook her head again._

 _"Well then, what is it child," Lady Stark pressed._

 _"My Lord Stark," Maester Luwin entered the room. "There seems to have been an incident at today's lesson and, oh Lady Nysa," he smiled at the sight of her there._

 _It only made Nysa remember how he had tried to stop Theon from telling her. How many people knew about this, this bad thing that she was? She threw herself in Lady Stark's arms, despite her condition, and began to weep hysterically. Lady Catelyn's hands ran down her hair as her voice spoke reassuringly to her that it was alright, everything was alright. But how could it be if she was this person that had no family name and it seemed that everyone but her had known about it._

 _Maester Luwin whispered to Lord Stark what had happened during the children's lessons. Theon had already been taken care of and both Jon and Robb were sent to their rooms._

 _Bran was taken from Ned's arms and moved to a nursery so that he and his wife could talk to Nysa. It took some time for the young girl to calm down. But when she finally did, Lady Stark was the first one to talk. She explained that her father was fond of her mother and though some will not believe it, she is the daughter of nobility. Yes, she was given the name Snow, different from that of her brother Jory, her Uncle or even her cousin. But she was still their family._

 _"You know that your brother would do anything for you, Nysa," Lady Catelyn reminded her. "There are some children who are not recognized by their family. But I assure you that your father was fond of your mother. Both loved you deeply. Jory accepts you, Ser Rodrik accepts you. Remember your name-day presents that are delivered from White Harbor?"_

 _Nysa nodded. "My Lord Uncle from the South sends it to me every year. And this past year he requested that I write to him to know how I was getting along."_

 _"Aye," Lord Stark nodded then, joining the conversation. "Only family who cared about you and accepted you would want to know how you are doing. You have a family and if there was ever shortage of family, you know that we can be counted as such."_

 _"That is true. Arya enjoys being around you," Lady Stark mentioned. "We need someone to help control her and who better than someone who could be her older sister? Robb and Jon consider you family as well. You know this, Nysa."_

 _It was still a hard concept to explain and to understand. Despite Nysa being smart, she was still young. Words like Theon's had hurt her. But Catelyn had done her best and Ned smiled at seeing the two interact. He knew her mother had been devoted to the two of them. And probably sensing how devoted Lyanna and Catelyn were had drawn Nysa to them. He hoped that Catelyn had the right idea of sending her to Karhold. Lord Karstark originally wanted Sansa to go but she was too young. Catelyn explained that Nysa was more than capable to aid his wife. It was all under the guise of Nysa having more female interaction with proper ladies. But in truth, Lord Stark was hoping that the other Houses would come to adore Nysa Snow. They had to._

 _"As for your training, what Theon said is rubbish," Catelyn affirmed, "you have more noble blood in you than that squid."_

 _"Wife," Ned seemed shocked at her for speaking in such a way in front of Nysa._

 _Nysa released a giggle, biting her bottom lip at seeing Lady Catelyn make such a remark. Catelyn waved her husband off before she took Nysa's face between her hands and kissed her forehead. "You are a Lady, Nysa. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise."_

"Do you see now," Jon asked her as Nysa finished the memory. "Do you see how you were placated and how I was brushed on the side?"

"Jon..."

"This is not something that suddenly appeared," he interrupted. "This is something that I was born with and I have to live the rest of my life with it." Nysa shook her head and looked away. "I know you do not want me to go. But do you see now, that I must? Just now in the dining hall, you were called to high table and I was not."

"I explained that to you," her tone was exasperated.

"You were introduced as Lady Nysa. And I," he shook his head, "I was to be kept hidden."

"If there was a way I could stop..."

"But there is not," he said softly. "I did not ask you to tell me that memory to make you feel guilty or to force pity upon me. I," he paused and took her hand, "I do not harbor any ill feelings against you for having Lady Catelyn's respect when I did not. But you must see, Nysa," he pleaded, "you must see that I cannot stay." She went to open her mouth. "I know you want me to go with you. I know I am still young to take up the Black. I know I may want a family. But I need to make decisions for myself. I have been told what I cannot have, now it is time to take what I can have. And I will have freedom, away from here, away from whispers that will follow me - even if I were to go with you. Let me have this chance and please do not be angry with me for taking it."

Nysa nodded. Jon lifted his hand to wipe away her tears. He had just bent down to kiss her forehead when someone cleared their throat.

Both turned to see a short man in the shadows. "That was truly heartwarming," he said stepping forward. "You speak about not wanting a family but it seems that you have acquired one in this young woman."

Jon moved Nysa behind him and put his hand on the tilt of his sword, "What are you doing out here?"

"Preparing to see the rest of your family, it seems," he looked towards the hall and then back towards the two of them.

Nysa recognized that it was not just a short man. It was the man that Arya had been speaking about ever since they received news of the King and Queen travelling to Winterfell.

"You're Tyrion Lannister," Nysa placed a hand on Jon's arm but Jon remained defensive.

"And the two of you, if I heard correctly are the bastards of Winterfell, one who they call Lady and the other the son of Ned Stark."

Jon was not certain which he detested more - the condescending tone in which the Lord spoke or the mockery he was making of both he and Nysa. Either way, he took Nysa's hand and began leading them away.

"I am sorry if I offended you," Tyrion called out. Nysa stopped, tugging on Jon's hand. He huffed but reluctantly turned them both around. "But you two are bastards, are you not?"

Nysa watched as Jon lifted his chin in the air. "Nysa's mother is a Lady from the South. Her father is a knight and has served House Stark loyally for his entire life. And I am Lord Eddard Stark's son."

"True," Tyrion nodded. "But her mother," he pointed to Nysa, "did not wed her father. And Lady Stark is not your mother. That makes the two of you bastards. Let me give you two some advice. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not, especially in the South," he pointed to Nysa, "or as you said," he gestured to Jon, "wherever it is that you go. Wear it like an armor. It can never be used to hurt you."

"What the hell would you know about being a bastard," Jon shouted.

Nysa gripped his hand. "Do not speak to the Queen's brother that way," she whispered.

Tyrion Lannister let out a slow chuckle. "That is my greatest accomplishment, Queen's brother," he shook his head and lifted his wine sac to his mouth. "All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes. Believe me, Snow, I know much about it."

Nysa and Jon stood still, watching him go. Suddenly Jon pulled away from her, taking out his sword and smashing the training dummy into pieces with one stroke. She gasped watching his back. Jon's breath heaved in and out of him as the pieces settled on the floor. Some time passed before Nysa stepped towards him, putting her hand on his back. He turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around her. They held one another tightly as possible. Jon was going to miss her.

"Am I interrupting a moment?"

Nysa released him and looked over at Robb who had wandered out from the hall. "We were talking," she replied.

"Talking," Robb looked at the two of them.

"Aye," she nodded, "and what brings you out here?"

"I had just sent Arya to bed," he jerked his head towards the keep. "She and Sansa were having a small disagreement in front of the Queen."

"It seems we have all made fools of ourselves in front of her Grace tonight," Nysa sighed.

"And what are you two talking of so intimately," he gestured to Jon's arms around her.

Jon had to chuckle at that. He knew of his brother's feelings for Nysa. At the same time, he felt that Robb should know of Jon's feelings too. He cared for her like a sister. There was nothing passionate. He almost wanted to say that Nysa was not Robb's to own. But neither was she Jon's.

"Jon was just telling me about the Wall," Nysa answered before Jon could make out a reply. Jon looked at her and she smiled sadly.

"The Wall," Robb chuckled, "what is going on at the..." Robb stopped midway and looked towards his brother. "Is that why Uncle Benjen is here? To take you with him," he questioned.

Jon looked away.

"I think I will leave you two to talk," Nysa began to walk back towards the keep.

Robb's hand quickly took hold of her wrist. "I had wanted to walk you back to your room. I fear I may not see you tomorrow."

Nysa patted his hand. "I know of the hunting trip. I will wake early to see you off." She looked at Jon then. "He is determined to go," Nysa whispered to Robb. "All that we can do now is support his decision, Robb."

Robb nodded to her before watching her walk away from them.

* * *

Nysa, Sansa and Arya stood at the foot of the bed. Everyone should have been back from the hunting trip by now, perhaps that would help calm Lady Catelyn. She tried to urge Arya out of the room but she refused to leave her brother. She had taken them down to the Godswood - and to the Sept, for Bran would need both the old Gods and the new - to pray. Rickon had been inconsolable at first when hearing about Bran's injuries. But when she had brought him to pray with her, Nysa saw that it did help. She took him to her room to work on his letters after that. Maybe he could draw a picture for his mother and brother, she suggested. He had been in Nysa's room since then and she had returned to Lady Stark's side to help with Sansa and Arya.

"My Lady," the door opened and Wyl walked in. "Lord Stark has returned home."

Sansa and Arya were out of the door faster than their dire wolves had run out. Summer's head merely lifted from the bed but stayed close to Bran. Nysa hurried after the two as she saw Lord Stark march towards them. He embraced both Sansa and Arya before ushering them behind him. The look on his face was the saddest Nysa had ever seen it.

"My son," he asked her solemnly as she shook her head.

"He has gone through the night unharmed. Maester Luwin said that that is a good sign. That he may live," she answered truthfully.

"And in your opinion?"

Nysa looked down. "We have done all that we could. The rest is up to the Gods." He nodded and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I tried to," she choked back a sob, "I tried to do the same as I did with Lady Umber," Nysa looked up with tears in her eyes. "But it didn't," she shook her head. "It did not work. I'm sorry Lord Stark."

He cupped her face in his hand, causing her to look up at him. "As you said, the rest is up to the Gods. Go and look after Sansa and Arya," he nodded behind him before heading towards the room.

She heard a loud sob from inside the room and knew that it was Lady Catelyn embracing her husband. Jory appeared then at her side and pulled her tightly into him.

"We hurried back as soon as we heard," her brother told her. "Has anyone seen anything?"

Nysa pulled back and shook her head. "They think he fell," Nysa nodded towards the room. "But you know Bran," she gripped onto her brother, "he is an excellent climber. He was looking forward to going to King's Landing - more than Sansa. He did not fall, you know he would never..."

Jory took his sister on the side and quieted her down. "What are you saying?"

Nysa shook her head as tears fell from her eyes. "He was found by one of the abandoned towers. Who would go there unless they were hiding something?"

"You think Bran got caught in the middle of whatever it was that happened at the abandoned towers?"

"Think about it," she urged.

"But who would hurt him? He's just a boy."

"We do have guests staying here."

"Stop it, Nysa," he scolded her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arya and Sansa flinch at his tone. He released a deep breath. "You are implying something dangerous." She opened her mouth but he held up his hand to stop her. "I left Wyl in charge during my leave," Jory added. "I must discuss this with the other guards. In the meantime, keep your thoughts to yourself. Do you understand?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You summoned me, my Lord," Nysa dipped into a curtsy, smiling at Robb. He shook his head and motioned for her to come in. "I must say that this solar does not suit you. It looks too feminine."

"Well it does belong to the Lady of the House," he looked around. "I think I will leave the decision to her to do as she pleases with it," he smiled at Nysa.

"A fine husband you will make for her then, if you were to allow her to do as she pleases."

"I hope so," he stared at her with a fixed gaze, one that Nysa had seen often as he looked at her. He gestured for her to sit in the chair next to him. "My mother has refused to leave Bran's side so I have had to attend to a few things in her stead. I know that you have helped her before. I just wanted things to be in order before Father leaves."

Nysa nodded as she sat and looked over at the desk, sorting things here and there.

Robb watched her intently. He was not paying attention to what she was doing or if she had mentioned anything that needed improvement. In truth, he had called her there for another reason. His father had announced that he was still going to King's Landing. He was still going to take Arya and Sansa. Then, the heartbreaking news came forth. His father was also taking Nysa to the South. She was leaving him, leaving Winterfell.

Now would have been a proper time - if there ever was any - to tell her that he didn't want her to go.

Theon had suggested that Robb dip his cock at the brothel, then he would not be plagued with fantasies of the young woman in front of him now. As he watched her work next to him, doing something that the Lady of the House would normally do, he realized just how much he wanted it to be her and no one else. His father and mother told him what to look for. She would have to be more than just a pretty face - his mother warned him. She would need to be kind and generous. She would have to be dutiful, honorable and respect his family because kin were important. Robb believed the only person who met all those requirements were Nysa.

"It looks good," Nysa turned to him then.

"It does," he ran his hand inside her cloak and down her arm slowly. He leaned forward then, prepared to indulge in this sweet sin.

"Robb," she whispered. He closed his eyes and pulled back. "I am sorry about Bran," she said suddenly looking away from him.

Robb released a frustrated sigh. "I do not believe that he just fell," Robb clenched his fist. "And I know you do not either. He was so full of life. They say that if you live by the sword that you die by the sword. That was not the case with Bran. He could climb any cliff. No tower was too big for him. I hardly see him dying by doing something he loved." Robb looked at her. "And you feel the same, don't you?"

"Jory told me not to speak of it."

"But you could trust me with it, couldn't you? I trust you," he touched her hand. Nysa smiled at him. "You have been there for me whenever I needed you, Nysa. And I," he paused unable to find the words. "And I know you have been there for the rest of my family as well," he settled on instead, upset with himself that he could not say the words to her.

"Jon and I were just reminiscing about his birth the night of the feast," Nysa added. "I remember you calling him too small," she smiled and released a small laugh.

"He was small," Robb commented as he chuckled.

"He will wake," Nysa touched his hand.

"If the Gods are good."

"I prayed at the Sept as well," she told him. "I did that once," she looked away thinking of Lady Mariah Karstark then. "I prayed in the Godswood since there was a lack of Sept. I prayed to both the old and the new Gods, hoping to deliver new life. Maybe they will do the same here, for Bran."

"You are too kind."

Nysa smiled. "I always thought of Bran like a brother to me. I respect your parents. They've helped to raise me," she smiled. "I'd do anything for them."

"Anything," he asked softly. Nysa nodded slowly as Robb leaned forward again. "Then stay with me," he whispered just before brushing his lips against hers.

It was soft at first but when she whispered his name, it caused his entire body to ignite. His hand tangled into her hair, keeping her face close to his. Nysa grabbed his arm - her mind telling her to stop him before it got too far. Robb nibbled on Nysa's lip causing her to gasp and pull back slightly. His lips then moved to kiss her cheek, her chin, just below her ear causing her heart to quicken.

"Nysa," Robb pulled Nysa into his lap and kissed her deeper. It felt like she was being devoured.

She released the most delightful noise that made Robb groan. His other hand wrapped around her waist began to journey south. He squeezed her bottom just enough to make her squeal. Nysa's body responded by pushing against his. She felt so warm, so perfect. He reached his hand around to her leg. Slowly he trailed it up her smooth skin, pushing back at some of her skirts. The action pulled her to her senses.

"We shouldn't," she placed her hand on his and opened her eyes.

He looked up at her and gave her a small nod. His thumb continued to rub against her leg as their breathing slowed down.

"Do you really want me to stay back," she asked as her hands reached up to rest against his chest, toying with the buttons of his doublet.

"I do. I want you with me," he said. "Say you'll be mine."

Nysa smiled and gave him another kiss, causing him to smile back. "I have to go tell your father that I cannot go now for I am to stay back with you," she leaned down to kiss him once more but he held her back.

"Must we tell my father," he asked.

"Well of course, I mean," her smile dropped, "what were you planning on keeping me as, Robb?"

"I don't want you to leave."

"So, we have to inform your father," she gave him an incredulous look.

"I want you to stay back but I don't think we should tell him."

"Why not," she scooted back in his lap.

"He may not like it, that you're staying back for me. We may have to say something else," he looked troubled now.

"Say something else? Why would you want me to stay back, if not for..." She moved to stand up. "Am I just to play nurse to Rickon and Bran? Am I to just do the accounts and allow you to grope me as though I worked at a brothel?"

"Why are you getting angry with me?"

"Because you seem so against telling your father about me staying back to be with you," she answered.

Robb ran his hand through his hair before standing to face her. He took her hands in his and looked down at them.

"You mean to keep me secret?"

Robb sighed. He wanted her to stay back with him. He wanted to treat her as though she were his wife. There was no one else he wanted there but her. "I do not want you to leave me. But we," he lifted her hand to his lips. "We could never be, Nysa," he finished.

"Because I'm a bastard," she pulled her hand away. "So, it is either stay and have you kiss me in secret or I should just leave because you would be ashamed to tell your father?"

"I am not ashamed."

"But neither are you brave," Nysa took a step back. "The accounts look well, my Lord," she gave him a quick curtsy and rushed towards the door before he could see her tears.

It was not until she had exited the keep did she realize that there were no tears. Nysa lifted her hand to touch her cheek more than one occasion but they were not damp. She looked down at the sleeves of her gown but there were no traces of wetness there. Her heart felt hurt but it did not feel broken as it had when she was at Karhold. Nysa wondered why that was. Then it dawned on her - it was because she was angry! No, she wasn't saddened the same as when Torrhen sent her away from him. She was furious. He wanted to keep her a secret! She never thought she'd see the day that Robb would treat her with so little regard.

"Oh, that idiot," she cursed and kicked at the ground with her boot before stomping like a child.

A few people paused to look up at her but no one ventured forward. She wanted to hurt something. She wanted to shoot an arrow at something, anything. This must have been how Jon felt when he was frustrated with something. Nysa walked towards a fence, pulling a rope from the side and began to hit it against the post.

"Nysa!"

Her head turned to see Jon waving her over. He was by the stables and looking excited about something. She walked over and thought about what just happened. Should she tell Jon? He had said that there was something - it may have not been a lot but it was still something - that was happening between Robb and her. He would encourage her to walk back into the keep and talk things out with Robb. At least that was what she thought.

"What's the matter with you," he teased as she came closer.

"Of all the foolish nonsense I've heard you speak, Jon," she pointed at him, "do not ever counsel me about my relationship with Robb."

"What are you speaking of," Jon's smile dropped.

"He," she began but stopped when she noticed who was behind Jon. Two of them bore Karstark banners. The third was a Karstark himself. "Torrhen," Nysa said his name softly.

Torrhen walked towards her and placed his hand on her cheek. "Hello, my sweet Nysa."

* * *

"You are a liar! Jory would have told me if you sent a letter," Nysa shouted at Torrhen.

She had wrenched his hand away from her face when she discovered he had come to Winterfell and slapped him before turning to run from him. He had hurried after her, going as Jon had directed him to do so before finding her about to enter her room. Torrhen would have been a fool if he allowed her to escape him again. He had demanded that she hear him out this time. He had come here to ask for her response to the letter he sent to Jory and Lord Stark over a year ago, asking for her hand. It should have surprised him that she did not know of it but in truth, he remembered the day he had ridden to speak to her. Her brother had all the guards refuse him entrance.

Torrhen snorted. "Your brother would have hidden that letter away."

"He had every right to," she countered. "You are cruel! Why would you ever think that he would allow his sister to wed such a brute like you?"

"If you are talking about that day we argued in Karhold..."

"Of course, I am talking of it. You sent me from your bed because you thought me a child, because you thought me not pretty enough as the serving maid..."

"I never said anything of the sort!"

"You did not need to utter a word; your actions spoke volumes!"

"Did you not read any of my letters that I sent to you since that day?"

"No, I burnt them! Burned them the same way you burned me," her eyes narrowed at him.

"Is everything alright here?" Nysa looked behind Torrhen to see her brother standing there, his sword at the ready. "May I be of service to you, sister?"

"Yes," Nysa stood up straighter and lifted her chin in the air, "please escort Lord Torrhen out to the guest hall."

"I just need a moment," Torrhen did not look away from her.

"The King of Westeros is a guest of Winterfell," Jory announced. "If you present a danger to the people here, it is my duty to have you leave."

"I am the son of Lord Rickard Karstark," Torrhen continued to stare at Nysa, "you cannot..."

"You will find that he can," Nysa said. "Jory, please remove..."

"Just a moment, Nysa," Torrhen took a step forward, pleading with her, "please." She shook her head and Jory made to step forward. "My mother and my sister think highly of you, Nysa. And I know that respect is returned by you. If you will not do this for me, then at least do this for them. Please," he said one more time.

"Why did not just come yourself," she asked. "If you say that you sent me letters and were waiting for a reply then why..."

"Don't you think I tried that," he replied. "The moment I was done reading your letter that you left in my room, I raced here to Winterfell! Your brother and the rest of the guards would not even allow me to enter the gates! Ask him," Torrhen gestured to Jory. "I came here to tell you that I was fool. To let you know that I thought it was you who felt nothing for me."

"I offered myself to you," she marched towards him and stood less than an inch away. "If that was not sufficient for you, I know not..."

"The serving maids offered themselves too!"

"How dare you compare me to them!"

"But I am not," he shouted back. "Don't you see why I sent you away from my bed? I could not dishonor you!"

"I think that is enough, my Lord," Jory spoke up.

Torrhen pressed forward. "I could have taken you if I did not hold you in such high regard. I am the son of Lord, it was my right. But I could not do that to you and do you know why?"

Nysa shook her head as Jory tried once more to get Torrhen away from his sister.

"I will see that you can rest here for the night before you return back to Karhold. But you have spoken enough..."

"I love you, Nysa Snow," Torrhen shouted. A moment of silence fell on the three of them as she stood there watching him with tears in her eyes. "I had to tell you before you left for King's Landing," Torrhen said quietly before taking a few steps back. "You are not like the serving maids. You are not someone that a Lord can take to his bed and discard in the morning. You are more than that, more than your name. There are more ways to bring pride to your House and you showed me that."

Nysa looked away and wiped her face. She gasped when she felt him take her other hand in his. He lifted it and pressed a kiss inside her palm before bringing it to his face.

"I never thought of you as a child. You must have known that from the first day you arrived in Karhold that I admired you," he told her gently.

"As a friend but I..."

"I always believed that I would view my wife as my closest friend. Over the years my closest friend became the one person I lusted over every day I saw her," Torrhen added, "you are that person, Nysa. I understand if you do not accept my hand but I just wanted to let you know that the words of love in your letter meant everything to me. You claim that you left your heart in Karhold when you rode to Winterfell but know that when you leave for King's Landing, it is my heart that you will be leaving with."

They stared at one another while all the memories she had of them in Karhold had appeared in her mind. Torrhen moved to press his face further in her hand before stepping away. She let her hand drop as he walked with Jory.

* * *

Jory placed his cloak over the chair in his room. His quarters were large but simple. He had a room that was located within the keep so that he could be close to Nysa. When he had told Lord Stark that he was coming back home to nothing, he truly meant it. His father had died during the war. His youngest brother passed - taking their mother along with him during their previous Winter. His other two brothers never survived. And now all he had was this little girl. She was everything to him.

His fist clenched around his sword when he heard how that 'little girl' - a woman grown now - had offered herself to Torrhen Karstark. How could she have done that? His little sister had crept into a man's bed? Jory knew that something had happened two years ago when she came home from Karhold but he did not think that she had behaved so indecently, not Nysa. Perhaps she did have a little disobedience in her - what young person did not? She was overall a well-behaved and proper young woman. Her behavior at Karhold though, was something else.

Jory had only been too overjoyed when he heard Torrhen say that he had sent her away from his bed. A part of him wanted to be upset hearing this man declare that he lusted for his sister. Yet another part of him respected the man. Jory knew the temptation that a willing woman in bed could present. The fact that Torrhen had turned his sister away before anything could have been acted on meant the world to him. Although, he sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed to take off his boots, that could have been the reason why Nysa had returned to Winterfell believing he did not love her.

Just as he pulled his tunic over his head, the door to his chambers burst open. "Is it true," Nysa sobbed. "Is it true that Torrhen rode to Winterfell two years ago? Is it true that you did not allow him to enter? Is it true that he wrote a letter asking for my hand," she slammed the door shut and marched towards him. "Is it true, Jory?!"

Jory's heart broke for his sister almost as much as it did when she came home those two years pass. "Aye, it is."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Do you not remember that day," he asked her. "Do not remember how Jon and I brought you back to Winterfell, sobbing? For days, the only person who could console you was Lady Stark. You refused to eat," Jory reminded his sister. "And every time I asked you, you would just start crying all over again. I knew he did something to you. It only confirmed itself when he showed up at the gates, demanding to see you. I knew then that he had hurt you. Why would I allow him to enter Winterfell to see you?"

"I talked to you after," she shook her head as the tears fell. "I explained to you that I told Torrhen of my love for him and that he rejected me. Why could you not tell me then that he had come?"

"What good would it have done?"

"At least I would have known that he had made an effort! Now all the letters that he sent make sense," she shouted. "He had to communicate with me somehow, especially since my brother refused to let him within Winterfell's walls!"

"May I remind you that you burned his letters!"

"It is because I thought he did not care!"

"Did you think that way when you were in his bed," Jory stood in front of her as Nysa's bottom lip trembled. "How do you think that made me feel, standing there when I heard you say that you offered yourself to him? My little sister in bed with a man," he cried out, "have you no shame, Nysa?"

Nysa's head dropped then as her vision blurred with tears.

"I never thought that you would behave in such a manner! Offering yourself to a man as though you lived at a brothel," he continued. "Haven't I taught you anything?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

It was then that Jory realized he was shouting at his sister. He took a step back and shook his head, trying to look at any other place in the room other than at her. He did not mean to say such things to her. She had gone through enough as it is. A young woman's heart is a fickle thing - he should know. When one is young, one is naive. It was not her fault that she fell in love. He moved to create some space for them at the edge of the bed before taking her hands gently and leading her towards it. She sat down slowly and continued to cry.

"Are you really ashamed of me," Nysa asked after some time.

"No," he answered.

"But you are ashamed of my behavior," she stated.

Jory sighed and looked away from her. "A bit, yes," he confessed. "I cannot picture you as one that invokes arousal in men. You are my sister. But," he took a deep breath, "you are not my 'little sister' anymore. You have not been for some time. As I said, it is difficult to understand that other men have taken interest in you. You are and always will be my little sister, no matter how you grow." He smiled teasingly, "or how many ravens are sent to seek your hand."

She smiled softly as Jory leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Do you mind telling me the whole truth now?"

"We were at Last Hearth, enjoying some wine," Nysa started.

"Last Hearth," he questioned.

"It was during the time Lady Umber had fallen ill and I," she paused and took a deep breath, "and I healed her."

Jory nodded, remembering that occasion and urging her to continue.

"Later that night - when Greatjon had a feast for his wife - we were sitting alone at a table. He had begun whispering compliments in my ear. He touched my hand, my arm, my..."

"I do not need to know where his hands were," Jory stopped her causing her to blush.

"He asked me for a kiss but Lady Catelyn saw us and pulled me away. We had promised to see one another later so I went down to his room. But it seems that in my absence he had turned his attention to a serving maid. Lady Mariah saw this and said that the girl meant nothing to him. I could not understand why he had asked me for a kiss then once I was gone, he began to kiss another. We had returned to Karhold and he pretended as though it never happened. We returned to the same routine, taking rides together and training in the yard, talking and walking along the coast. Then one night I went to find him and found another kitchen maid entertaining him in the stables. I had become so furious."

"You do have to watch that temper of yours," he chuckled.

"That same kitchen maid called me a child some days later," she whined.

"At the time..."

"At the time I was four and ten. I had flowered three years before," she stated as Jory shifted uncomfortably. "I grew jealous that he would spend all his daylight hours with me but at night he sought comfort from another. That night, I cannot say what my intentions were when I went to his room or crawled into his bed," she added the second part quietly, "but I could not stand to see him with the serving maid or the girl from Last Hearth." Nysa wiped her face. "I just wanted to feel loved and I thought," she sobbed, "I thought he loved me."

"Nysa," he took her hand and made her look at him. "You told me that you proclaimed your love for him and he rejected you. You did not tell me that you went to his bed and he sent you away."

"Were they not the same?"

Jory smiled a bit before looking away. He reminded sitting here with another young woman, Raya. He could not love her as she loved him so he encouraged her to accept marriage to Joseth - Hullen's apprentice and who would likely become horse-master. They had been married for five years and had two daughters. Raya had not spoken to him since then but he knew that she was happy.

"Some men do not bed a woman because they love her," Jory explained. "I never thought that I would have to tell my sister this but I had behaved in such a way. I shared a bed with a young woman for some time. I suppose she thought that we would wed but I could not."

"You never told me that you loved anyone."

"That is just it, Nysa. There are men who will take a woman to their bed just to seek pleasure. I did just that. Later when it became apparent that the young woman developed feelings for me, I informed her that I could not wed her."

"But I'm sure you could if you..."

"If I wanted to but I did not," he finished for her. "I never found someone who made me feel things the way you feel for Torrhen Karstark. In truth, I should have acted more like him and sent the girl from my bed but I did not. The girl meant very little to me."

"I cannot believe that my own brother would behave such a way," Nysa shook her head.

"I did. And I suppose that it is I who should be ashamed of my own behavior rather than yours. You may not think so right now but Torrhen had done the honorable thing in rejecting you that night." Jory looked up at his sister.

"You think what he said in the hall is true?"

"I guess when you would not answer his letters, he decided to write to me and to Lord Stark. In there he confessed that his admiration, respect and consideration for you had grown into love. He spoke of your worth and how we would spend the rest of his life showing you how much he valued you," Jory smiled, "if you, Lord Stark and I gave him the chance."

"I don't know," Nysa looked away.

Jory turned fully towards her. "Remember that conversation we had about love and marriage?" His sister nodded. "I cannot say that I approve of your actions or of his taking other women but I do believe that what he said in the hall is true. I believe he does love you, Nysa. Only a man who would be willing to wed you before bedding you could care that deeply about you."

* * *

Nysa had done a good job at avoiding Torrhen for her remaining days at Winterfell. She had almost argued with Jon when she saw him later that evening. Before she could even open her mouth to yell at him, Jon wrapped his arms around her and told her that he was leaving with Uncle Benjen. There was no use in letting their last days together be filled with disagreement. She ate dinner with him that night in his room. Robb had been there along with Arya, Jory, Uncle Rodrik and a few other guards who respected Jon. It was a small affair with shared stories meant to humiliate Jon. It was not until he began sharing stories about everyone else that Nysa knew he was having trouble with leaving. He may have spoken about wanting to go there but he wanted to stay with them as well.

"You will be great, Jon," she embraced him before leaving his room. "I will pray to the Gods every night to keep watch over you. I know that it hurts," she whispered, "If you want to sneak out tonight, we can."

She had been one of the first to leave - with the guise of taking Arya to bed - because in truth she did not want to speak to Robb as well.

"I do not want him to go," Arya said sleepily as she climbed under her furs.

"I know," Nysa pulled them up, "neither do I."

"I want him to come with us to King's Landing."

"So, do I, Arya," she blew out one of the candles and went towards the other on the opposite end of the room.

"No," Arya sat up quickly.

Nysa stood up straight, away from the candle and looked warily at Arya. "Is something wrong?"

Arya looked about the room for a while. She couldn't admit to Nysa that she feared the dark. She had heard stories that Bran had read about the white walkers. Like father, she dismissed it. The Wall and those of the Night Watch had protected the realm for years, decades, even longer than that. But with Jon leaving, Bran's accident, mother in the state that she was and her, Nysa and father about to depart for King's Landing - it reminded her that the world was much larger than the North. There were things out there she did not understand. She was excited about all of it but tonight she did not want any more reminders of such dark tidings.

"You know," Nysa began to move towards the bed slowly, "when I was eight - just two name-days younger than yourself - I went to Karhold for the first time. I must admit that I was frightened. Before I left Winterfell, Theon had told me that on the Iron Islands they feed children to the seals so that the drowned Gods would forgive the Lords for their sins."

She sat on the bed beside Arya as Nymeria climbed on to the other side.

"I was so fearful of going to Karhold because the coast lay right there along with..."

Nysa looked at Arya intently. "The Bay of Seals," Arya answered quietly.

"Lady Karstark had not birthed Alys yet. I had been sent there to help her, make her comfortable and be with her when the child was born. She had lost her two babes before then and was fearful that the same would happen this time. There was a lot resting on my young shoulders. I told my brother not to leave in Karhold because I believed that Lord and Lady Karstark would let the seals eat me if I failed at my task," she smiled as Arya shook her head.

"They would not dare! You are a member of our household! Father would have considered it an act of treason. And the Starks and Karstarks are like kin," Arya stated boldly.

"That is true," Nysa nodded. "But it is hard to remember the good things when presented with something different and frightening."

Arya saw her point and looked down sheepishly. Both Maester Luwin and Nysa believed that Bran would live. They had found something in the tower - though she was not privileged to know what it was - and knew that soon justice would be dealt to the guilty party. Nysa was coming with her to King's Landing so she would not have to endure her sister all the time. Jon was going to the Wall but he was going to be protecting the whole of Westeros now. She trusted Jon with her life and soon others would as well. She'd let them know that her brother was there - guarding them from the strange things Bran had read about in his books.

"Do you see how I thought I would be fed to the seals? It is true that the Karstarks are loyal to your father. And they believe in the old Gods like your father, not the drowned Gods like those on the Iron Islands. But I felt that if I did fail that the seals were right there. Who was to say that Lord Rickard would not throw me into the bay with them?"

"What did you do to fight your fears?"

"I prayed to both the old Gods and the new to help me, guide me, be with Lady Karstark and her child," Nysa told her. "They heard my prayer then and I believe they will hear our prayers now with whatever concerns us. And," she paused, wondering if Arya would tell her, "is there anything that concerns you?"

"I am worried about Winter and the white walkers," Arya confessed. "I worry about Bran and leaving mother. I do not want to go to King's Landing and I do not want Jon to leave either."

"It is okay to be cautious when confronted with change, Arya. There are many things happening around us and despite how young you are, I know that you understand a lot of it."

"I do," Arya nodded. "Sansa says that I don't, but I do!"

"I know you do. As you Starks say, _Winter is coming_ ," Nysa nodded her head. "The Wall will need men who are brave and strong and faithful like Jon. That is why he is going. Your father wants to protect his dear friend, the King. Even the King knows that there is no one more loyal and trust-worthy than your father. In times like these, men like Jon, your father, Robb, Jory, Ser Rodrik, they are rare and hard to come by. That is why they do the things that they do," Nysa touched her shoulder and urged Arya to lay back. "Robb will be here with your mother. It is time he learns to become a Lord. And surely King's Landing will not be all bad, I will be there right along with you."

"I suppose you are right," Arya sighed.

Nysa smiled and kissed her forehead before adjusting the furs. "Other than having brave and loyal men around, it is good to have strong and honorable women as well. Your mother is needed to watch over Winterfell. Sansa is said to wed the Prince. They will need you to do your part as well."

"I will not marry a southern Lord."

Nysa let out a small laugh. "Believe me, I do not desire to wed one either."

"I wish you would wed Jon so he would stay."

A smile graced Nysa's face before she shook her head. "Jon and I love one another but our love is not like that. I think of him as a brother."

"Because you both do not know who your mothers are," Arya stated more so than questioned. She really did know a lot of what was taking place around her.

"We still have one more day to spend with him tomorrow. I suggest you try to get some sleep."

Arya nodded and turned to wrap her arm around Nymeria. Nysa began to hum a northern tune while smoothing her hand against Arya's hair before slowly standing from the bed. She went to walk towards the candle but looked back at the bed. Nymeria's head turned to look at her before laying it against Arya in a protective manner. Nysa smiled and walked out - letting the candle light flicker as she left.

* * *

The day before they were to leave, Robb pulled Nysa towards an empty hallway.

"I will miss you," Robb told her.

Nysa nodded. "I will miss you as well."

"If things were different..."

"You mean if I were not a bastard?"

"Do not say that," Robb shook his head.

"But that is the truth, isn't it," she questioned. "Robb, I can't say that I'm not upset. But I understand," Nysa looked down. "You are heir to Winterfell. You deserve a Lady who will help you manage the North. After all, in your father's place, you will one day become Warden of the North."

"I always hoped that Lady would be you," he told her honestly.

Nysa sighed and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "You will always be my dearest friend, Robb. There are few people who I consider honest, caring and just," she pulled back, "you are one of them. You are also stubborn and do things without thinking some times," she added with a smile causing him to chuckle. "But you would not be you if that were not the case. I will think of you fondly," Nysa nodded.

"You are a wonderful person, Nysa," his hand lifted to touch her cheek.

Robb thought about his brother then. If Bran had not fallen, not been plagued with such uncertain life - then he would have let his father know. If they rejected Robb's choice of Nysa, then they could have Bran become Lord of Winterfell when he was ready. But as oldest he would need to become that Lord - as Nysa said take his father's place. And with it were certain expectations.

"Write to me," he asked of her, "and if, if for some reason, you return to the North and are still unwed then..."

"Why give birth to hope when there is none," she moved his hand.

"Because I have a feeling that there could be," he finished before kissing her forehead and leaving quickly.

Nysa watched him go. Did he mean that he would still consider her - despite her status? She did not want to know or think of it. Perhaps he meant to continue to keep her in secret. She thought then of her conversation with her brother and wondered what type of man Robb would be. Would he bed her just for pleasure or bed her out of love?

"You're in love with him aren't you," she turned to see Torrhen standing there.

"Is a conversation between two people no longer sacred," Nysa threw her hands up in the air.

Torrhen chuckled before stepping forward. "You best be used to it. I hear that in King's Landing, the walls themselves have ears," he leaned down and whispered, causing Nysa to slap his arm. He pulled back smiling, until he looked above her head and sighed. "I suppose that is the reason why I have not heard from you in two years."

"You know the reason why," she looked down.

Torrhen's hand lifted her head so they could look at one another. "Walk with me?"

It was getting dark and she still needed to pack a few things. Tomorrow they were to leave to King's Landing. She had argued with Torrhen the first day that he was here and had not spoken to him since. The least that she could do was talk with him. But at the same time, she did not want to venture down that road again. He had broken her heart once before. Dispite the war raging in her head and her heart, she took his offered hand and began to walk with him.

"I hear that you are to meet your Lord Uncle," Torrhen told her suddenly.

Nysa nodded. "He expressed wishes to meet me in his last letter. Apparently, your letter for my hand was not the only one to arrive in Winterfell," she blurted without thinking, "and he has been arranging for other matches from the South. I guess he wants my opinion on the matter." Torrhen's arm tightened and Nysa pulled her hand away. "Forgive me, I did not mean to boast or anger you."

Torrhen shook his head. "It was foolish of me to think that no other offer would come for you." He cleared his throat and looked away. "Could I ask of you to be honest with me," he asked. "Are there any offers that look promising?"

She took a deep breath in. "My brother demolished a training dummy to pieces and planned on sending that as his answer to one of the letters. When the second letter came, he wrote the refusal himself - the very same day. There was," she paused before clearing her throat. "There was one to wed another Snow," at that news a curse slipped from Torrhen's mouth. He knew who she spoke of. "My brother has declined that one as well. Come to think about it, the only one that my brother has not rejected outright has been yours."

He immediately turned back to her, his eyes searching hers. "And how do you feel on it?"

"I do not know yet," she answered truthfully. "Your rejection hurt."

"Surely you know that I was not rejecting you. I could not dishonor you," he began but Nysa held up her hand.

"I know," she said softly. "I suppose it was my pride that burned your letters and my brother's love for me that stopped you from seeing me when you first came here. I think if we were given the time then to discuss things it would not be so bad as it is now."

"Have your feelings for me changed?"

"It is not that simple," she shook her head.

"Because of Robb Stark," he pointed past her, towards the keep, "or because of what happened between us?"

"This has nothing to do with Robb."

"I think because he may have treated you a certain way that you fear allowing me that second chance. You want to run away to King's Landing and forget that..."

"I do want to run," she admitted. "I gave you my heart once before Torrhen. How do I know that this will not be the same? Did you know that Robb said he wanted me to stay but refuses to tell his father of his feelings for me? How do you know that you will not be ashamed of wedding a bastard later? This may just be lust or..."

"I am not ashamed of my love," Torrhen stood in front of her with the volume of his voice growing louder and harsher. Nysa gasped and looked away. "I did not seek you out to argue, Nysa. I merely wanted to let you know that I will be departing tomorrow as well. I will journey on the Kingsroad with your party and accompany the rest as they head North. Jon has informed me of his departure from Winterfell."

"You are not taking up the Black as well, are you," she reached for his arm.

Torrhen chuckled before shaking his head. "I thought I see you off. I did not want us to part in a such a manner again."

"Perhaps," Nysa spoke up quickly. "Perhaps we could have sup together, just me and you."

"I would like that." He leaned down and kissed her cheek softly before walking away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Nysa's hands shakily held the tray as she approached Torrhen's room. She knew he would have no maid in there now but that was only because he was expecting her. What if he had already met a serving maid down at the stables? She felt a tight grip on her heart and for a moment couldn't breath as images of Torrhen with another entered her mind. No, he wouldn't. She shook it off and tried to remember the words he spoke to her earlier. Nysa must have been outside for quite some time because before she could call out his name or knock on the door, it opened for her and revealed Torrhen smiling in the entryway.

"Here, let me," he took the tray from her and brought it towards a table. "It appears as though you have taken a lot from the kitchen. I thought it would just be the two of us."

"It is but I," she looked down shyly, "I had the cook make the meat and other dishes just how you like it. He decided to make the entire rack like that instead of just one small pot."

"Thank you," he said with a smile as she moved the plates and began placing food on them.

They ate and chatted lightly about Alys and his mother's well-being. She inquired after Harrion and Eddard who had sent their regards with him. They were looking forward to a letter from her once she arrived in King's Landing. She showed shocked that Harrion and Eddard would want a letter.

"No one in our family has been that far South," he replied. "My father went as far as Seagard when the Ironborn rebelled. Harrion had not left because our father wanted someone to protect my mother, just in case. Other than that, no one has ever seen the Capital. It would be an amazing tale to be told."

"I should wait for something exciting then before I write," she smiled.

"Will you write," Torrhen asked her seriously.

"Of course," she answered.

"To me," he questioned then. Nysa sighed as she pushed her plate back. "I believe that your feelings for me have not changed, Nysa. Your brother knows of this. If he didn't, he would not have taken this long to mull over the decision of giving your hand to me."

"As I said it is more than that. My Lord Uncle wishes to meet me. For some reason both my brother and Lord Stark say that my Uncle should be the one who chooses my husband."

"But you could tell him that your heart is here..."

"It was," she straightened out.

"Was," Torrhen stared at her.

"Yes, you already had it but broke it!"

Torrhen sighed and looked down. She slumped back in her chair. Tonight was supposed to be a nice dinner and instead they were arguing again. A part of her couldn't forgive him completely and she knew why.

"I must know, Torrhen. How can you claim to return my feelings when you take another to your bed?"

"By imaging it was you," he whispered. He lifted his head to gaze at her. "Did you not feel my attraction for you, every day we were together? That day we rode out towards Amber tower and I held you in my arms and kissed your shoulder," his hand reached out and ran up her arm lightly. "Then there was the time you glided around the yard in those breeches," he smiled and shook his head. "I was so tempted by you when you began to braid your hair like my cousin's."

Before Nysa knew it, Torrhen's hand had reached behind her head and slowly began undoing her braid. His fingers ran through her long brown hair, untangling the waves so gently that she closed her eyes and sighed. He continued until her hair fell about her face.

"I've always wanted to do that," he confessed, "run my fingers through your hair just before we retire for the night."

Torrhen looked at her then, her eyes closed and her mouth parted before leaning in to kiss her. It was not the first time they had kissed but it felt just like it. His lips pressed softly to hers, letting the simple touch sink in.

"It would have been wrong of me to take you in Karhold as though you were mine. You should have your brother walk you to the Godswood, place your hand in mine while we stood in front of the heart tree. We would have grand wedding and a lavish feast where my brothers and the other men would fight to dance with you, my beautiful bride."

Torrhen kissed her one more time before pulling back.

"I could not rob you of that. My mother had been trying to convince my father for some time, Nysa," he said which caused her to open her eyes at look at him. "If I did not hold you in such high regard, I would have bedded you and wed in a simple, secret ceremony. That simply would not do because you are worth more than that, you are worth it to me. Every day you seduced me, aroused me, tempted me. I wanted nothing but to have you. It was wrong of me to take those other maids yet somehow, I knew that I could not dishonor you. I did not want to treat you as though you were a serving maid or a bastard girl."

"But I am."

"You are so much more than that to me, Nysa. I wanted to bed you as my wife. I know my behavior was appalling and you may never forgive me for that. I would not forgive myself. But believe me Nysa, I do love you and I do want to wed you."

Nysa leaned forward and kissed Torrhen deeply. He tasted the tears on her lips and knew that though she may not have forgiven him, her feelings for him were still there. She encouraged him towards the bed then. And though he resisted as much as possible, he could not deny himself one last passionate embrace. He moved her dress to reveal more skin as his lips tasted her body. Her hands danced along his arms and chest as she moaned and sighed beneath him. He could not stand the thought of her Lord Uncle allowing her to wed someone in the South. His kisses grew aggressive as he pictured her with another man.

"Torr," she cried out when he took off her dress, leaving her in a rather tantalizing shift.

"Nysa," he groaned and pushed himself back. "We cannot."

She rolled her hips up. His cock felt her warmth through his breeches and that last bit of material on her. It would have been so simple to undo his laces and push that thin material on her away. She would have to stay with him then. But he remembered his promise to her, the words he had spoken of just now.

"If tonight is all that we have," Nysa whispered, pulling him back down and hooking a leg around his hips.

"No, Nysa, I cannot dishonor you."

"Torr..."

"Nysa," he rest his forehead against hers. Slowly she untangled herself and he had to lean down to kiss the tears that appeared. "Come back to me," he kissed her neck, feeling her pulse quicken underneath his lips. "Come back to me and I will make you mine."

"We're here together now," she smiled flirtatiously up at him.

"And should Lord Stark find that I dishonored a maiden under his protection, in Winterfell," Torrhen looked around before glancing back at her.

"So, it has nothing to do with my virtue, rather..."

Nysa moaned as Torrhen pressed his lips to hers, fiercely feasting on the passion between them, molding his body to her heat. Every part of her tingled and she was sure that she would never know such attention and care as she would from Torrhen. Her heart was soaring and she never wanted it to end. But end it did as Torrhen slowed his assault in an attempt to calm his ever growing arousal.

"I want to make you my wife, Nysa. I highly doubt Lord Stark would oblige me the honor if I show him any disrespect," he nibbled on her jaw and suckled on her soft skin. "Let us wait. Let us think of forever instead of just this one night."

That night, she insisted that she stay in his room, in his bed, in his arms. Again, she told him that tonight could be all that they had together. Her Lord Uncle could very well have her wed another in the South. Torrhen pondered on that as he held her body close to his. He had always imagined what it would be like to sleep with her in his bed, her head tucked against his chest and her body molded to his. Torrhen tried not to think on how her hips had curved or how her breasts felt fuller as her body pressed against his. There was a stirring sensation in his breeches and he did his best to keep those thoughts and emotions at bay. It would do him no good now. Even her soft breaths seemed to have intoxicated him further than he ever thought.

"Gods let this not be our last night," he begged.

Surely her Lord Uncle could not be wedding her to someone for political gain. Perhaps he had no daughters and sons. Perhaps he wanted to make Nysa his heir. He was not sure of it. But as he held her tightly, her warmth overtaking him, he hoped that her Uncle would allow her to wed for love.

"Come back to me," he whispered against her hair as she stirred slightly in her sleep.

The next morning, she walked with him down towards the stables. No one had awoken from their slumber yet. And that was a good thing because he did not desire anyone to question her honor. He informed the few guards he had brought with him that they would be riding out with the rest of the Stark guards as she combed the mane of his horse. She had done it more than a few times back in Karhold. He remembered her riding with him as they went along the coast - after a while he insisted that she had to ride behind him for fear that she'd feel his cock against her bottom.

"So, have you won her back," Waylyn - one of House Karstark's guards - asked with a knowing smile.

"That remains to be seen," Torrhen looked at her.

She turned then, laughing at something his horse did. He walked towards her and took his hand in his.

"Tell me what I need to do to make you mine," Torrhen said suddenly. Waylyn motioned for the other guards to leave them alone. "I will do whatever it takes, Nysa."

Nysa thought for a moment. She did not expect him to utter such a declaration as that. Though they had discussed it and both knew that they cared for the other, nothing was truly set upon. She knew how the ideas of lordship and wedding worked hand in hand. There would still be other circumstances to work out - and if she were so fortunate they'd consider her demands.

"What do you want, Nysa," Torrhen asked again.

"I will not share you, Torr. You cannot ask me to stand by and watch you bed another."

"I have not taken anyone to my bed since that night you came to me," he confessed.

"So long," she whispered in confusion.

"I realized my error and I have endeavored to refrain from committing it again. Should you accept me, there will never be a day that goes by that you will doubt that I love you and only you."

"I have nothing to give you."

"I desire nothing but your loyalty, strength and love," he kissed her hand.

"You rejected me," she shook her head and looked down.

"Once we are wed, I will never turn you away," he smiled, "and if you wish it, I will bed you every night." Nysa slapped his arm before shaking her head and smiling at him. "I am sorry for making you think that I did not want you. But if you give me the chance, Nysa, I will show you how very much I _need_ you."

She smiled lightly. "You best talk again to my brother," she answered.

"Truly?"

She nodded before squealing in delight as he picked her up and spun her about. He settled her on her feet and kissed her fiercely. Her lips were soft and sweet. But he wanted more. His tongue entered her mouth then as it had done the night before causing her moan and grip onto his shoulders. He had once told her - in a state of drunkenness - that he would never feed her to the seals she was so fearful of, not when he could devour her himself. Torrhen reveled in the feel of her, how her body seemed to always be so warm, welcoming and tasteful.

Nysa loved the taste of him too. He had grown much since she last saw him. When they released one another, Nysa allowed her eyes to wander. His shoulders felt broader under her touch. His beard seemed to be fuller but she found that she did not mind it. Then he smiled at her - no, she thought. She did not mind it at all.

"I do not know who will be happier," he said as his breath returned to him, "when I return to Karhold with the news."

"I think it will be Alys."

He shook his head. "I think it will be my mother."

"Your mother?"

"Bring her back to Karhold, she said. Make her your wife, she said," Torrhen chuckled as he took Nysa's hands in his. "Her and my father spoke much of it apparently. They saw that I had come to care for you."

"Your father spoke of me," she raised an eyebrow and he laughed. "Are you jesting me, Torr," she pulled one hand away to push at his shoulder causing him to laugh louder.

"Jest the beautiful and sweet Nysa Snow," Torrhen smiled at her, "I would never," his voice low as he tugged her closer. Her body heated up despite the cool air around them. His face leaned down to hers but stayed a distance away, smiling at just having her with him.

"If Lady Stark taught me anything, it was to beware of the way a man's hands may wander," Nysa teased as Torrhen rest his forehead against hers.

"You should be worried about the way his mind wanders," he replied.

"Aye but that I learnt from your mother."

Torrhen laughed heartily before moving back to hold her more intimately than before. His arms wrapped about her waist, holding her tightly to him. "I wish you were coming back to Karhold with me now. But your brother and Lord Stark are insistent that you meet your Lord Uncle first. Apparently, he needs to approve of me."

"Then I should probably tell him that I do not like you," she teased as he smiled. "You are just an absolute bore and I do not know if I could stomach the thought of becoming your wife for as long as I shall live. Yes, I think I will tell my Uncle exactly that," she began before being swept into his embrace again. His lips descended on hers for a moment until one of the Karstark guards appeared.

"There is life in the yard, my Lord," he warned of the growing crowd.

"I should go in and see that my things are packed," she pulled away.

Torrhen refused to let go of her hand. "May I see you one last time?"

"I will ask my brother to saddle a horse so I can ride next to you on the road," she said.

"I like that better," he told her before brushing his lips against hers. His horse nudged his back then and Torrhen narrowed his eyes.

Nysa giggled. "No Bull," she rests her hand against the horse's forehead. He remembered the day he chose the name. Nysa had been the only one who had not laughed at him. "It would be improper if both Torrhen and I rode you."

"We have before," Torrhen reminded her as he came to stand by her side. "It is a good thing he called me, I forgot to give you this." He brought out his bow and the few arrows in its holder. "You still remember what I taught you?"

"Of course," she smiled.

"Take this with you, use it if you have to," he lifted his hand to her cheek. "It will be as though a part of me were with you."

"My sword," she asked then.

Torrhen smiled. "It is still in Karhold. In my haste, I hurried here to see you, praying that I arrive before you left."

"Keep it, use it if you have to," she replied. "That way a part of me will be with you too."

She hurried away once she heard the other guards coming into the stables. She better return to the keep - or better yet her room - before her brother came in search of her. Her heart felt lighter as though a huge weight had been lifted off of her. Nysa was full of contentment, as she strolled towards her room. An image of her wedding to Torrhen flashed in her mind - courtesy of the description he painted for her last night. Her hand moved to cover the smile on her lips and the laughter of excitement. She was in love.

Nysa had just made her way pass the kennels when she heard a loud groan. She should continue walking. Having often caught her fair share of guards - and on one occasion Theon himself - groaning because of a woman they were with, she definitely should have kept on. But this did not quite sound like it. This person could be in pain. She pushed back the gate and entered the stall. It was not a man and woman sharing their pleasure.

"My Lord, are you alright," Nysa knelt and placed a hand on Lord Tyrion's shoulder.

He began to laugh and turned to look up at her. "If it is not Lady Snowflake," he smiled. "I am quite well."

"You seem drunk."

"No, I was drunk last night. I wish I was drunk this morning," he continued to smile causing Nysa to smile as well. It was infectious. And the young, short Lord always seemed to be in a jolly mood - even if he was displaying less than the appropriate manners.

"I'm pleased to hear that you enjoy Northern wine and ale, my Lord. Not everyone can stomach it."

"It is an acquired taste to be sure. But I do love my wine," he chuckled, rolling over. "Perhaps a bit too much, I'm afraid."

"Do you need some assistance?"

Nysa went to bend down as he reached out for her arm. "I hear you are to accompany Lord Stark to King's Landing." She nodded in reply as she helped him to stand, surprised that he could despite his previous drunken condition. "Is it true that your mother is from the South?"

"That is what I've been told, my Lord."

"If that is what you have been told that must mean that you have not yet been introduced to your mother's family, correct?"

She shook her head. "I," she paused and wondered just how much she should inform Lord Tyrion.

"You," he pressed, appearing to be deeply interested in her.

"I do not know my mother's name or even which House she belongs to. But my Lord Uncle wishes to meet me. I suppose it has been many years since he has."

"And am I to assume you do not know his name either?"

"No, my Lord."

"I should hope that you find them. From what I hear, they come from a wealthy house indeed, with the name-day gifts you have received thus far."

"Indeed. My Uncle has been generous with me, my Lord."

The little Lord sighed then and turned towards Nysa with a serious expression. "There is no need to be calling me 'my Lord'." Nysa quickly opened her mouth to reject his request but he held up his hand. "With such riches as gifts, there is no other House that I can think of that is rich as ours. Therefore, I would not be surprised if you are a Lannister. And if so, then that makes us kin. And with that hope, I will ask that you call me Tyrion," he insisted.

"You are too kind," she opened the gate from where the hunting dogs rested and waited until he was out before locking it.

"Well if it isn't the Lady Bastard and my Uncle," a voice said from behind them.

Nysa gulped and was about to run but Lord Tyrion took her hand. They turned around to face Prince Joffrey. He eyed Nysa out for a moment. She was about to drop to her knees when Tyrion stopped her.

"That is no way to speak to a Lady, Joffrey."

"I will remember that when I see one," he smirked before turning to his Uncle. "My mother has been looking for you. We leave for King's Landing today."

"Before we go, you must go to Lord and Lady Stark and offer your sympathies."

"What good will my sympathies do?"

"None," Tyrion said simply, "but it is expected of you. Your absence has already been noted."

"The boy means nothing to me," Prince Joffrey shook his head.

Tyrion turned to look at Nysa. "I think you should apologize to the Lady. She and her brother serve House Stark loyally. Bran's accident means a lot to them."

She bit her lip and looked over to see a few royal guards behind the Prince. "There truly is no need, my Lord. The Prince can do as he pleases."

"See there," Prince Joffrey leaned forward, "the woman knows her place..."

Before she knew what happened, Nysa saw Lord Tyrion slap the Prince. She went to take a step forward in front of the Prince. Perhaps he will punish her instead of Lord Tyrion. Lord Tyrion continued to chastise the Prince - as though he were not one. It seemed extremely odd to her.

"One word and I'll hit you again," Tyrion warned.

"I'm telling mother," the Prince threatened.

Nysa cringed, dropped her bag and covered her mouth with her hand as Lord Tyrion slapped the Prince again. "Go! Tell her," Tyrion dared him. "But first you will apologize to Lady Nysa for your disrespect and then go to Lord and Lady Stark. You will fall on your knees in front of them and tell them how very sorry you are. That you are at their service," he took a step forward as the Prince stared at him, "and that all your prayers are with them. Do you understand?"

Prince Joffrey scowled at Nysa before turning back to his Uncle. "You can't make me!"

Nysa released a muffled scream this time as the Prince was slapped for a third time. "Do you understand," Tyrion said the words slowly.

The Prince looked appalled for a moment. He begrudgingly took a few steps over to Nysa. He didn't utter an apology. He simply picked up her bag and shoved it in her hands before walking away. Nysa stood there stunned as to what she just witnessed. A part of her would tell Robb and Jon about it, probably even Arya. It was something they would laugh about. But right now, she just wanted to hide.

"There was no need for that," Nysa told Lord Tyrion.

"Aye," one of the guards stepped forward. "The Prince will remember that, little Lord."

"I hope so," Tyrion smiled. "If he forgets," he pointed to the guard, "be a good dog and remind him. Now come with me, Lady Nysa," he held his arm up for her. "I believe it is time for breakfast." Nysa looked around at the guards cautiously before taking his arm and leading her into the hall. "I wish to speak more to you in King's Landing once you meet with your Lord Uncle. I do love a good mystery."

"My Lord..."

"Tyrion," he reminded her.

"Tyrion," she closed her eyes. "What happened out in the yard," she shook her head.

He cleared his throat before patting her hand gently. "You will find that in my life family, it is best to know what weaknesses they have and use the talents you possess to outsmart them. Everything in my family is a battle of wits. I fear I will not be able to help you avoid them on the journey because I am going to the Wall with your other bastard friend," he stated plainly.

"Are you taking up the black," she asked uncertainly.

Tyrion chuckled. "Never," he declared. "I find I enjoy life and all its sins too much. I do not think I will be up here again," he looked around, "though it is remarkable country. And the Wall is an impressive and noble place in Westeros."

"You honor us with your praise."

Tyrion tilted his head at her. "You know your words and manners, I'll give you that. But remember, you need your wits too," he pointed to his head, "when in King's Landing. Now I am off to eat. I best put some food and maybe more wine in my belly before we leave," he announced as he turned and walked away. "I think there will be no wine at the Wall," his voice carried down the hall.

She remembered Lord Tyrion's words later that morning when she spotted Ser Jamie.

It was after she had finished preparations for leaving. After leaving Lord Tyrion's side, Nysa had found Jory and asked that she ride out of Winterfell next to Torrhen until the Kingsroad turned. He allowed it and asked if she had finished packing. She did not have much and Lord Stark informed her that there would be markets and dressmakers they'd meet along the way. She could purchase something for not just herself but also Sansa and Arya.

Her trunk was packed and Wyl had been helping her take it out when she saw Jon out in the yard speaking to Ser Jamie. Nysa watched and saw that the situation was not a friendly one.

 _"You will find that in my life family, it is best to know what weaknesses they have and use the talents you possess to outsmart them. Everything in my family is a battle of wits."_

"I'm sure it will be thrilling to serve in such an elite force," Ser Jamie smirked.

"It will be," Nysa announced stepping forward. Ser Jamie looked at her with narrowed eyes before she turned to Jon. "While some claim to protect the King, those on the Wall protect the entire realm. Do not listen to those who have slain the _one_ person they were left to guard," she said to Jon as she attempted to ignore the member of the Kingsguard. "Is this Arya's..."

Ser Jamie grabbed Nysa's arm and turned her around to face him. "You know nothing of what you speak," he sneered.

Jon went to draw his sword but Nysa placed her free hand on his arm before looking at Ser Jamie. "I know enough," she whispered. She looked down towards her arm that he was holding and back up at him. "I see that the Lannisters still have a taste for hurting innocent women."

Ser Jamie let her go with such force, causing Nysa to stumble back into Jon. He stared at both for a moment before smiling and nodding his head as though he had still won the argument.

"You did not have to do that," Jon told her. "You are to go to King's Landing with him. What if..."

"I will be alright, Jon," Nysa replied and picked up the sword. "It looks rather small."

He sighed, knowing she would not discuss it further and turned towards her. "Well it is for Arya," Jon whispered looking at Mikken before settling his eyes on the sword. "Do you think you could watch over her? She can be rather..."

Nysa touched Jon's arm. "I will make sure that she is alright." She looked over her shoulders to see if there were any Lannisters around but there were not.

"She is not the only one I worry about," he tugged on her hand. "You must not draw attention to yourself, like how you just did," Jon warned Nysa.

She smiled. "Well perhaps then you should have a sword made for me as well," she teased.

"I already gave you your gift," he smiled back. She looked at him with a confused expression. Jon nodded behind her. Nysa whipped her head around to see Torrhen saddling his horse and giving the other Karstark men his instructions. "My brother cares for you, I do not doubt that," Jon came to stand beside her. "But if he will not make his heart's desire known to our father than I thought that I help give you back yours."

"You wrote to him," she looked at Jon. "You told him I was leaving for King's Landing."

Jon turned to face her. "I know of the letter he sent. Father read it to Lady Catelyn while they broke their fast."

"You knew about the letter?"

"I know that he rode here after your last visit to Karhold. I know that Lord Karstark even sent a letter to my father."

"He was telling the truth," Nysa took a deep breath and settled her hand against her heart.

"I hope that you are confused no longer about the two of them. I know it does not seem brotherly of me to encourage you away from Robb but Torrhen will take care of you. He came all this way to tell you," Jon reminded her, "and you were happiest when you were at Karhold with him. My brother will find another. After all he is the heir to Winterfell. I am going after something I want, you should go after something you want to."

* * *

After gifting Arya with her sword, Jon ambled down the hall towards Bran's room. He knocked softly and upon hearing Lady Catelyn's soft words to enter, he pushed the door open. He stood there for a while, gazing over Bran's body. Summer lifted her head and offered what appeared to be a lopsided grin upon seeing it was Jon. He swallowed, nodding towards the dire wolf before taking his next step inside the room.

"I hear that you are leaving also."

Jon's head turned towards Lady Catelyn's. He couldn't decipher if it was irritation or sadness that he heard in her tone. Either way, he approached the bed cautiously. "I came to say goodbye to Bran."

Lady Catelyn looked away.

Jon took that as permission to venture further. He came to stand right next to the bed and looked down at Bran. He did not look the same. He sighed and tried to forget the burning sensation of Lady Catelyn's eyes watching him to scare him away.

"I wish I could be here when you wake. I'm going North with Uncle Benjen." He heard a small noise from Lady Catelyn - a mixture of gasp and sob. Jon shook his head and continued. "I'm taking the Black." He knelt down then, wanting to be closer to his brother, begging for him to wake and get better. "I know we always talked about seeing the Wall together. But you can always come visit me at Castle Black when you're better. I'll know my way around by then. I'll be a sworn brother of the Night's Watch."

Jon paused and looked away, down towards Bran's legs and then back to his face. It wasn't fair.

He put on a smile - wondering if Bran could sense him, though he were sleeping. "We can go for a walk beyond the Wall, if you're not afraid. Then again," he looked up slowly, "I know you're never afraid. But I am. I'm," he paused when he noticed Lady Catelyn's eyes filled with tears.

She leaned down, her tears falling onto Bran's cheek as she pressed a kiss to his brow. Jon knew that he was talking to his brother - to Bran. But he wasn't certain if the words had offended Lady Catelyn somehow. He pushed himself up from the side of the bed and began walking towards the door. Jon had just reached the middle of the room when he heard her mumbled voice called out to him.

"Jon," Lady Catelyn said softly.

When he turned - he saw her face still buried on Bran. "My Lady?"

"If he can't go to the Wall, you will come back to see him, won't you?"

He felt shocked and a bit uncertain. Was she offering him an invitation to visit - as Uncle Benjen does? Or was she asking so that she could lock the gates to Winterfell? He shifted on his heels uncomfortably, trying not to think too much on her intentions. She looked up then - her eyes red and puffy with tears. Jon's heart broke a little before the guilt started to seep in. He obviously did say something that hurt her. Then he worried if she would say something harsh. She never did but perhaps now she would finally curse him all the way to the Wall.

"Will you visit," she asked again.

"I," Jon shook his head. "I do not know if I will be able to."

"Perhaps if Bran wakes, we'll let him decide if he wants you to come back or if he'll go to see you," she suggested, wiping her face with her sleeves.

Jon wasn't certain where it had come from but nodded. "If that's what Bran wants, my Lady."

Lady Catelyn turned to look down at Bran before pushing back. She shakily stood on her feet and faced Jon. "I," she began but started to sob again and brought her hand up to brush the wetness from her face.

"It is alright, my Lady."

"No, it's not. But I," she paused. "I'm sure that Winterfell will miss you," Lady Catelyn appeared hesitant and looked as though she were to step towards him. Her body had just leaned forward before her eyes shifted to the door.

Jon did the same and noticed that his father was standing there now.

"It's time to go," father announced.

Jon nodded. Turning back to Lady Catelyn, he bowed his head solemnly and then hurried out from the room. A part of him wasn't sure if she was about to extend a small ounce of kindness his way or not - possibly because it was the last time she'd ever see him. He walked slowly down the hall, towards the yard - wondering all the while if Lady Catelyn was going to embrace him.

 _"Look at that, Jon," Nysa cried happily as she touched the cloak he had on his shoulders. "It's so warm."_

 _"Despite it being Summer and the weather being nice out," Lady Catelyn smiled at the two of them. "This is the North. I thought you could use something that wasn't so worn down."_

 _Nysa gasped and held out a small piece of the cloak. "It has a dire wolf on it, look," she proclaimed as Robb came to stand by him too._

 _"Amazing," Robb smiled._

 _Jon couldn't help but feel proud about his new cloak. He twisted and turned, showing it off a bit more. Robb and Nysa laughed and danced around him. He paused and smiled, turning towards Lady Catelyn and saw her looking straight at him._

 _"You look handsome, Jon," she nodded._

 _He couldn't help himself. He launched into her arms, throwing his own around her. "Thank you, mother," he pressed his head into her warm embrace._

Jon shook his head and turned away from his horse, looking up at the keep where he knew Bran's window was. She wasn't his mother. She never was. She never would be. But he had always hoped, prayed even. He cursed then and pushed back towards the horse. It was time for him to go. It was time for him to leave. There was no need to wait around and desire a mother's comforting arms. He pushed that thought to the back when he saw Robb approaching him then. Robb would not know of Jon's craving - not even Nysa knew of it. He was going to the Wall. There was no time for childish nonsense at the Wall.

* * *

Jory huffed and snorted during the short ride from Winterfell towards the Kingsroad. He watched as his sister and Torrhen Karstark exchanged smiles and longing glances at one another. They were riding next to each other. Surely, Torrhen did not need to look at her all the time. A few of the guards around him chuckled at his behavior.

"Aye, if it was any of your daughters or sisters there, you'd not be laughing," Lord Stark rode past them, shaking his head.

"I bid you good luck with that," Jon said to Jory as he came to bring his horse by him. "The Gods know Nysa and her wild ways. I will miss them."

"She is going to miss you too. We all are," Jory replied.

"Do you think her Lord Uncle will keep her in the South?"

Jory sighed. "I hope that he does not. But one can never tell with such things. Your father thinks that he might."

"She will not love him for that," Jon chuckled.

"No," Jory did the same. "I think you will hear her shouting protests from the Wall."

"Jon?"

They both turned to see Benjen Stark nod his head for Jon to come along. They had reached that turn in the road where he would no longer continue with them. Jory touched his shoulder and nodded at him. As Jon rode ahead to see his Uncle Benjen tell his father farewell, he almost hesitated. His Uncle turned away from his father, leaving the opportunity for Jon now. Jon slowly rode towards his father then. There were so many things on his mind. He saw Nysa off in the distance, her horse next to Torrhen's - both whispering and smiling about something secretive.

"The Starks have manned the Wall for thousands of years. And you are a Stark," Lord Stark reminded him - pulling him away from thoughts of Nysa. "You may not have my name. But you have my blood," he finished.

"Is my mother alive," Jon asked turning to look at his Uncle Benjen who paused to look back at the pair. "Does she know where I am going," he looked at his father this time, "does she care?"

"Jon!"

Nysa came riding back from bidding Torrhen farewell. Lord Stark patted Jon's shoulder. "We will talk more about your mother, the next time I see you," he gave Jon a small smile, "I promise." Jon nodded. "In the meantime, you best say your goodbyes to your sister," Lord Stark nodded towards Nysa. "She," he paused, "she will need you one day."

"What do you mean?"

"Jon," Nysa called out excitedly as her horse finally reached them. "I hope you were not planning on leaving without one last goodbye, brother," she smiled.

Jon turned to Lord Stark who gave him a small nod. He looked at Nysa then. Could it be that his father was trying to tell him something? He brushed it off as he watched his father ride back towards the rest of his guards.

"I doubt this will be a last goodbye," Jon said.

"Aye," she nodded, "we will see each other again. I know it."

She leaned towards him and Jon pulled her into an embrace.

"I know it too. I will be looking forward to meeting Jon Karstark," he teased.

Nysa pulled away and quickly wiped her face as a tear fell. "I will talk to him of you every day, you will be his hero as you are mine," she said.

Jon nodded. "You best hurry before they leave you behind," he nodded towards the Stark guards.

"I will write to you, Jon."

"And I will write to you," he smiled. He raised his gloved hand to touch her cheek before dropping it and kicking his horse to go forward towards his Uncle Benjen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Nysa smiled at the sight of Arya playing with Mycah. She had influenced the boy to play sword-fight with her - and it would just be playing because Nysa was sure that if Arya brought out her sword from Jon that there would be a few cuts and bruises to go around. Nysa asked Arya if her father knew about the sword. Arya responded with a small innocent smile before dashing out of their room.

She looked down at the letter in her lap. This was the fourth letter she had been writing and they had not arrived at King's Landing yet. Obviously, she was excited - she thought to herself.

Nysa had written once to her Uncle, Ser Rodrik - informing him that Cley Cerwyn had inquired after Beth when they had ridden through Castle Cerwyn. Of course, Cley was five name-days older than Beth but surely her Uncle would not refuse House Cerwyn. Beth was his only living daughter. If he did not like the idea of Nysa wedding someone, she knew that he would be even more protective if it were Beth. At least Cerwyn Castle was not that far and they were a strong House. Beth would thrive there, Nysa was sure of it. Jory refused to agree with her on the matter, reminding Nysa that Beth was still young. Nysa said it must have been the Cassel charm that helped Beth, the same way it helped her. And that only served to infuriate Jory.

The second letter had been to Alys Karstark, congratulating her on her betrothal, apologizing for not writing sooner and inquiring after Torrhen's safe arrival home. She commented on how she had met Daryn Hornwood twice before - once at Winterfell and the other at the Dreadfort - and stated how respectable the young Lord had been. Remembering that at one of those feasts, Alys was present for but had spent most of the visit with Bran caused Nysa to wonder why Lord Karstark had not pursued a betrothal with Bran, instead of House Hornwood. Jory again refused to ponder on that thought.

Jory had been rather sore company as of late and Nysa wondered what she had done to irritate him so. Perhaps she should have reserved that comment about charming Torrhen at a rather young age to herself.

Nysa had then written to her friend Wynafryd Manderly, the eldest daughter of Ser Wylis Manderly. Despite never travelling to White Harbor, Nysa received a letter from Wynafryd along with her name-day presents from her Lord Uncle, mentioning that the two of them shared a name-day. Nysa had a trunk of gowns sent back to White Harbor and since then the two became good friends, often writing to one another. Her mother - Leona Woolfield - and Lady Mariah Karstark were sisters. Therefore, Wynafryd would have loved to learn about Nysa's recent development with Torrhen. They were not formally betrothed yet. She had to seek the approval of her Lord Uncle in the South first. But there were promises - and that meant a lot to Nysa. She had met Wynafryd two years pass at the feast that was held in Winterfell. That was also the last time she had seen her other friend, Lyra Mormont. She had spent time with Lyra in the past. Once Wynafryd arrived, the three of them just meshed well together despite their differences.

Now she wrote a letter to Jon.

 _We have not yet reached King's Landing and there has been so much to see and tell you about. Though it takes a lot for me to admit this, the country here is beautiful. One could get lost for days just exploring all that it has to offer. I convinced my brother to allow me to ride a horse once we passed the Neck. He was against it at first - thinking that I would be safer with Arya and Sansa. But I assured him that I had Torrhen's bow and that I'd shoot down an attacker before they could even dare come close to him, so he need not worry for his safety._

She smiled then at the memory of telling her brother he had nothing to be afraid of. It made Desmond and Porther, a couple of the guards that were close by, laugh at his expense.

 _Enclosed is a flower that Arya and I found when we arrived in the Riverlands. I hope that it still has its color when it finds you on the Wall. If not, then I will describe it as being more golden than a Lannister's hair. In the sunlight, little spots seem to shine on the petals. It is brilliant and warm. I thought if you could not be on this journey with us, then I could send part of the journey to you. Arya had found a beautiful purple flower. But looks can be deceiving. The flower causes a rash on the skin. Your poor sister had to roll about in the mud to cool the itch. It is the one reason why your father insisted that I stay with her. She has been getting into trouble, more so than ever. He muttered something about his sister Lyanna and how they were similar. She is playing with sticks at the moment, pretending she is battling with the sword._

 _Your sister has grown proficient of the bow since the last time I trained her. While I was practicing, I allowed her a turn and she shot nearly every target at the center. I fear for the husband she will wed. She may drive him to madness, especially if she excels at the sword. She shows promise, not like my early years at the sword. Though I have grown out of it, I think Arya will not._

"You are big! Use your size to your advantage," Arya scolded Mycah, causing Nysa to look up at them before setting back down to her letter.

 _Now the part for which I knew I could share with no one else but you. The closer we draw to King's Landing, the more nervous I grow. I am to meet my Lord Uncle - the man who sends me letters and gifts but will not tell me his name. Do you remember that day that I asked him for his name? It was not long after Theon had called the two of us bastards. I so desperately wanted to know, to prove Theon wrong somehow. But I never got a response and it has allowed doubt to foster in my heart. I wonder if he will approve of me. What if he should find fault? What if he keeps me here and weds me to someone in the South? I want Jory to fight for me to return North but I fear it may not occur the way I want it to._

"Nysa?" She turned to see her brother standing there. "Are you busy?"

"Writing a letter to Jon," she answered before turning towards the two figures playing in the field, "and making sure that Arya stays out of trouble."

"Could I borrow you for a moment," he asked before nodding at Arya. "I think she'll be alright."

Nysa glanced back at the pair and noticed Nymeria lounging by the river. Surely if someone happened upon them and a guard was not able to intercede, Nymeria would hurry to Arya's rescue. She rolled the parchment back up and began to put away the ink and writing materials. She had just placed them all in her bag when Desmond came out in such a fashion that caused her to scream in surprise.

"Forgive me for startling you, Lady Nysa, but we need your help," he told her.

"What is it," Nysa asked.

"It is what I came here for," Jory informed his sister as they walked back towards the Inn. "One of the royal guards got a bit carried away while sparring with us."

Desmond, Jory and Nysa had just reached the grounds when she saw that a few of the royal guards were laughing and drinking down their wine. It was obvious that they were talking about the incident and probably boasting about it. This was not the first time that they had gotten 'carried away' during a sparring match. She had seen quite a few of the guards under her brother's command with bruises. She always gave them a broth whenever their party stopped and told them to rest it off. But she knew that this time it was different.

"Ah, Lady Nysa, we are glad to see you," Wyl mentioned, opening the door further for her.

She saw the guard known as Heward groaning and shifting on the cot. A few of the other guards like Fat Tom, Cayn and Varly looked upset. Yes, this time it was different. With the help of her brother, she began to take the armor off. There was already blood coming through and she knew that there would be more. Nysa had seen her fair share of wounds - with her brother being captain of the guards and her Uncle being master-at-arms - so she took a deep breath and prepared the best she could.

"Heward," Nysa gasped at seeing his injury. "That looks more than just a simple flesh wound, Jory," she chastised her brother as she knelt before the bed. She asked for a few more supplies than bandages and warm water. Jory brought another pot of hot water before her this time along with a candle. "I won't need it."

"Just in case," he left the candle there.

"Heward won't need it," she insisted. "I can tend to the wound without it."

Jory nodded but did not move the candle. Nysa asked for a few herbs and began to smash them together in a bowl before setting it in the water. Maester Sylas - the Maester who served the Karstarks in Karhold - had taught her about different herbs and remedies that she could make. She needed to know them for when Lady Karstark gave birth. As she got older, Nysa began to inquire about other plants and their uses. When the Maester was unable to inform her of such, her Lord Uncle would share what knowledge he had. In time, many of the guards, small folk and household members in Winterfell knew of Nysa's skill with healing.

Nysa worked quickly, every now and then muttering instructions, reminding herself of the words that Maester Sylas or her Lord Uncle had told her about. She moved Heward's tunic back, ignoring the groan of pain.

"You will have to hold him," Nysa told them. "There is some wood in there."

"Ser Jamie pushed him back onto the fence."

She looked up at Wyl, "he was sparring with Ser Jamie?"

"He insisted," Jory answered.

"Ser Jamie is an arrogant bastard," Nysa snorted as she rubbed her hands over the candle before bring them to Heward's wound. Her hand touched him and a sudden scream came from before she could pull out the wood. She worked quickly to stop the flow of blood, before dipping her hands into the pot where the cream was. "He did more than just push him back onto a fence," she looked at her brother as she covered the wound with the ointment. "What happened?"

"No guard should ever surrender," Desmond scoffed, "that's what that arrogant bastard said before he kicked Heward against the fence."

"Heward surrendered and yet he continued..."

Jory came beside her then. "You must not speak ill of the Kingsguard, Nysa."

"One must wonder why he is still there serving in such a position of honor when he murdered the last King," she replied.

After the initial scare, Nysa could dress Heward's wound and prepare him a wonderful soup. He said that if he were not married, he'd ask Jory for her hand to which all the guards laughed and reminded him that he was not married.

"Aye, but it would be a pity to be saved by a woman's hand only to die at her brother's," Heward said, encouraging a laugh from Jory this time.

Once everyone had gone, she encouraged Heward to sleep and promised that she and Jory would be here to care for him. Nysa sighed tiredly and sat on Heward's bedside as she wiped his side and changed the bandages. Jory watched her and realized how much then that she had grown since he had her tucked in the front of him as they rode under Winterfell's gates when he brought her home from the South. It would pain him if her Lord Uncle decided to keep her here. Of course, he was staying with Lord Stark for however long he was to serve as Hand. But that did not mean that his sister would always be there. Maybe she would be Sansa's lady in-waiting, he was not sure. But either way, he knew that something big was about to happen.

"You must have a great deal on your mind to be watching me, brother," Nysa called out to him.

Jory smiled and turned to look at the fire crackling. "I am hoping that this will not be the last time we journey together."

She looked up at her brother and smiled sadly. Just before she opened her mouth, both turned at the door bursting open.

"Jory!" Lord Stark walked into the room then.

"My Lord," Jory stood as Nysa did the same and curtsied.

"They have sent the royal guard to look for my daughter," he stated.

"Your daughter?"

"Yes. Have you seen Arya," Lord Stark turned to her.

Nysa nodded in reply. "Earlier this day, she was with Mycah, my Lord. They were playing down by the river."

"They say she is to answer to the King," Lord Stark shouted. "Are you certain that before you left her, all she was doing was playing?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it," she answered.

"We will go look for her, my Lord," Jory nodded to her.

"But what about Heward?"

"What has happened to Heward," asked Lord Stark, looking towards his guard with a troubled expression.

"Ser Jamie..."

"An accident in the yard, my Lord," Jory replied quickly, "nothing to be concerned about. My sister has tended to him and he is no longer in danger. Since my sister was the last to see the little Lady, we will go to look for her."

Jory beckoned his sister one last time to follow him. She reluctantly allowed him to lead her out of the room. He called for Cayn and Porther to follow them as they made their way towards the royal guards who were searching for Arya. One of the guards - she could not remember his name but knew that he was somehow related to the Queen - sneered at them as they drew closer.

"What are you doing here?"

"We have come to aid you in your search," Jory answered.

"You probably hid the girl," another guard stated.

"Why do you have your swords ready like that," Nysa gestured to a few of them. "Surely you do not need them to find a little girl."

"A dangerous little girl," a member of the Kingsguard appeared.

"She attacked the Prince," someone shouted from the back.

"Arya would never," Nysa shook her head.

"Well that is what has happened and now she is to answer to the King," the Queen's relative stood in front of her.

"She will not come by force," Nysa suggested, pointing to the swords.

"That beast she had with her was ordered to attack the Prince," the Kingsguard stated. "These are to protect ourselves from whatever trickery she will order the beast on us." Nysa went to open her mouth but he turned away. "We must hurry before it grows too dark."

The guards were set. For some reason, they were spinning a tale that did not sit right with Nysa. Every so often the Kingsguard would turn to look at Nysa and her brother. At one point, she tried to purposely slow them down, hoping Arya could manage to hide. She remembered that members of the Kingsguard took vows the same as those who took the black at the Wall. Her brother would not like her for this but it might help ease the tension.

"So," she began, "how long have you been in the King's service, Ser?"

The Kingsguard turned to look at her sharply before facing forward again. "I have served the King for fifteen years."

"Fifteen years," she proclaimed, "how very honorable to be in such service for so long. And I understand that it is a service done for life."

"Aye, it is."

"And you cannot wed, have a family or own any lands," she pressed.

"No, one cannot. May I know why you ask such questions?"

"Lord Stark's son, Bran, admires the Kingsguard. I could rarely get him to pay attention to his lessons unless we were talking of knights - especially the finest knights of all the Seven Kingdoms."

"That is high praise indeed," the knight stated.

Nysa allowed a small laugh to escape her mouth before walking along the side of the Kingsguard. "Bran would have loved to make this journey with us. The only knight he has ever seen is my Uncle, Ser Rodrik. And though he thinks my Uncle a brave man, he loved to hear tales of a knight's adventure. My father was also a knight but I barely remember him, so I could not inform Bran of such heroism."

"I met your Uncle while in Winterfell. He is brave man. I was reminded that not many in the North are knighted," he commented.

She shook her head. "I can only assume that my Uncle and my father were among the few who were. Though I am sure that it is not a simple accomplishment in the South, either. As Bran explained it, not every soldier can become a knight. And not every knight can become a Kingsguard. One can only assume that being a member of the Kingsguard is to be part of an elite force," she repeated the words of Ser Jamie's mockery but said it with admiration.

"I am sorry about his fall," he replied then. "The King said that he would have been a fine soldier one day."

"Truly, the King said that," she smiled.

He nodded. "I've seen the young Stark in the yard. He showed promise."

"Enough to become a fine knight," she asked.

"Enough to one day become my brother-in-arms and serve under his sister when she weds and becomes Queen," he commented.

"Now that is high praise indeed, for House Stark to be doubly blessed. Your House must be very proud of you. I know House Stark would have been for Bran, the same way I am of my Uncle and my father. And to have served the King for fifteen years, I'm sure it must not have been easy for you."

The Kingsguard displayed a small smile before nodding. "There are sacrifices to be made," he looked at her, "but it is rewarding work."

It was then that she heard the unmistakable sound of a little girl. Before anyone could realize that it was Arya, Nysa executed her next action perfectly, feigning to trip over her feet as the knight's hand reached out to steady her. She eagerly took hold of his arm, looking up at him and smiling gently.

"Are you alright, my Lady?"

She looked down. "I am, fine knight," she whispered before looking back up to see an expression of both pain and longing before he shook his head and took a step away from her, dropping her hand. It was not the same type of expression she had seen on Robb or Torrhen's face but it was something that looked like regret.

He looked over to the rest of the search party before bowing his head to Nysa. "Forgive me, I must see if the other men have found anything."

She could not respond quickly enough for the knight hurried away.

Jory cleared his throat then before making his way towards her. "What are you doing?"

"Distracting the guards," she answered as she took her brother's hand and he came to stand by her. "I think Arya is just beyond those trees," she nodded a distance away. Jory looked over and began to walk there but she hurried to stop him. "Let me, before the others find out."

Jory nodded and looked behind them. "I will distract them but it will not be for long."

"Use pretty words," she smiled teasingly.

He shook his head at her suggestion and began to walk away.

She was frightened for Arya. She could only imagine what was going through her mind at the moment. Nysa doubted that Arya had attacked the Prince outright. There had to be a reason for what she had done. It was then that she heard Nymeria whine and Arya hush her again.

"Arya," she called out softly.

"You found her," the Kingsguard shouted.

Nysa looked to Jory then and saw that he was doing his best to keep them away but it had proved to be a difficult feat for there were too much of them. "I think she is hiding behind those..." The guard marched past her. "Ser," she called for him. Quickly she placed a hand on his arm from drawing his sword.

He looked back at Nysa. "We were ordered to bring her before the King."

"She is scared. If she has committed a wrong as you say and you come to her like that," she gestured towards his sword, "she may run. Children are delicate."

"What do you suggest?"

"As I said, she will not come with force. Let me talk to her, fine knight."

The Kingsguard nodded before moving his hand away and allowing her to walk pass.

"Arya," Nysa called again. "It's alright if you are by yourself. I understand that you may be frightened, being all alone," she emphasized the last word and prayed to the Gods that Arya would understand what she was trying to say. Do not bring Nymeria out, Arya - Nysa pleaded in her head.

The way the guards were talking and how they had their swords out, Nysa was sure that they meant to harm the animal.

"They will want that beast," the Kingsguard reminded her.

"Arya, please," she asked again, "to make sure that everything is okay, you should just come out. I know you may want to _send_ me away, but it will be easier if it were just you."

A moment of silence passed as the other guards seem to quiet down and look intently towards the trees where Nysa had been speaking.

"Arya?"

"You will not be upset," Arya called out then and the entire party froze. "If I send you away, won't you be hurt?"

"I will understand," Nysa answered. "And in time, we could unite," Nysa assured her.

Nysa knew Arya understood then that she was implying to dismiss Nymeria. Arya was asking if Nymeria would be hurt. But Nysa knew the wolves were smart. She may not like to leave her master behind, but Nymeria would learn that it was for her own good. And in time, perhaps when they returned this way, Arya and Nymeria could reunite.

"I'm coming out," Arya announced then.

Everyone waited as they saw her walk around the tree. The Kingsguard went to step forward but Nysa grabbed him again. "Forgive me, Ser..."

"Ser Preston," he replied.

"Ser Preston, allow me please," she asked, looking up at him the same way she did earlier.

"Everyone stay back," he announced before tearing his gaze away from Nysa.

Arya came out slowly, her eyes staring at Nysa. She held out her hand for Arya to take. It was not long until she pulled the little girl into her arms, releasing a sigh of relief. Jory came then and wrapped a cloak around Arya as his sister held the girl close to her side. They were silent as they walked back to the Inn. Nysa prayed that this was just a small misunderstanding.

"She hates me," Arya said, causing Nysa to look down at her.

"She does not hate you," Nysa whispered.

"I threw a rock at her," Arya replied softly and Nysa could hear the pain in her voice. "She would not leave."

"She will understand," Nysa took Arya's hand in hers as they walked back towards the inn. They had just turned towards where Arya's room had been when the guards pulled them back.

"I am sure the little Lady needs her rest," Jory stood in front of them.

Nysa looked towards Ser Preston then.

"Allow them to..."

"We had our orders," a guard reminded Ser Preston.

He sighed and gave Nysa an apologetic look before moving to the side. "Forgive me, but he is right. She has to see the King."

* * *

Ned hurried down towards the hall where Wyl stated Arya had been. They had found her some time ago but she had to go and stand before Robert. His guards looked away in fear as he questioned them on what was happening. The problem was that no one was telling him anything. Everyone who was gathered in the hall, parted to make way for him. His eyes landed on Arya, standing before his friend.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Arya pleaded with her father as he grabbed her.

"Are you alright? Are you injured," he asked.

"No, no," she shook her head.

Ned looked at his daughter one last time, studying her to make sure that she was in one piece before turning towards his friend. He noticed everyone standing here as though they were attending a trial of some sort of criminal.

"What is the meaning of this? Why was I not notified immediately," he looked at Robert.

"How dare you speak to your King in such a manner," the Queen narrowed her eyes at him.

"Quiet woman," Robert snarled at her and then sighed. "It seems as though we have some business to settle down and get it done quickly."

Ned placed an arm around his daughter and pulled her towards him. He nodded for Robert to continue but it was the Queen who talked first.

"Your daughter and the butcher's boy attacked my son," Cersei placed her hand on Joffrey's shoulders. "Then she ordered that animal of hers and it nearly tore his arm off."

He furrowed his brows in confusion before looking at Arya.

"That's not true. She only bit him a little and he was hurting Mycah!"

Cersei snorted lightly. "Joff told us what happened. You and that boy beat him with clubs before you ordered that beast on him."

"That's not what happened," Arya protested.

"Yes, it is," Joffrey pretended to be hurt.

"Nysa," Arya suddenly grabbed the maid's hand. "Nysa, tell them. Were we playing with clubs?"

"Mere sticks, your Grace," Nysa looked at them. "They were not even sharpened at the edges."

"You saw these sticks," Cersei questioned.

"Yes, your Grace," Nysa nodded. "I had been watching them play together. They were not harming anyone."

"And what of this butcher's boy," Robert asked her.

"I hardly doubt that Mycah would harm anyone. He may be a large child but he is gentle. And Arya," she placed her hand on Arya's shoulder, "she would not fetch Nymeria on anyone. Nymeria would only attack someone if she were provoked or if she thought Arya were in danger."

"Robert," Ned spoke to him and gestured to Arya.

The King went to open his mouth but Cersei spoke up. "Your son," she reminded him.

"Allowed a girl to best him," Robert snorted before turning to Joffrey, "a mere child of ten." He turned to Nysa again. "Did you see the incident?"

Nysa took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, your Grace. My brother called me away to tend to a wounded guard. But when I left, the children were alright. They would not set about with malicious intent to harm someone."

"How would you know," the Prince stepped towards her, "you weren't even there, bastard!"

Jory and a few of the guards moved to place Nysa behind them.

"See," Joffrey pointed to them, "see they would all attack if they could."

"Liar," Arya shouted.

"Shut up," Joffrey replied.

"Enough," the King barked. "She tells me one thing, he tells me another," Robert gestured towards the two. "Seven hells! What am I to make of this? And I'm sorry Ned but we cannot take the word of Lady Nysa. Not," he looked at his wife and son, "because she is a bastard but because she was not there during the time of the incident." He sighed, "where is your other daughter?"

"At this hour," Ned thought, "she should be abed."

Cersei smiled lightly. "I think she is here. Sansa darling," she called. "Come here, my child."

Sansa walked forward then, the guards moving on the side to let her pass. She looked just as frightened. Ned looked back at Robert then. Was he really expecting her to oust his son?

"Now child," he gestured for her to move forward. "Tell me now and tell it true. It is a great crime to lie to a King."

She looked at her father who nodded that it was going to be okay. There was a long pause and Ned was sure that she would tell the truth.

"I don't remember," Sansa answered as Ned looked down. "I don't know. Everything happened so fast. I didn't see."

"Liar, liar," Arya rushed forward out of Nysa's hold and began to hit her sister.

Ned grabbed his daughter's arms and tried to hold her back. "Stop it! That's enough, Arya!"

"She's as wild as that beast of hers. I want her punished," Cersei demanded.

"What would you have me do? Whip her through the streets? Dammit, children fight," the King stated. "It's over."

"Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life," his wife added.

"And where is your sword, my son," the King looked at him.

"She..."

Robert chuckled. "Yes, I forgot. You let the little girl disarm you. Let those scars serve as a reminder for the next time!" He got up and walked towards the Starks, looking at Arya before turning to her father. "Ned see to it that your daughter is disciplined. I will see that I do the same with my son."

"Gladly your grace," he bowed his head slightly. He looked towards Nysa who nodded and went to take the girls to their rooms.

"What of the dire wolf, the beast who savaged your son," reminded the Queen.

"I forgot about the beast," the King looked at his Kingsguard.

"We found no trace of it, my King," Ser Preston answered.

"No? So be it," he turned back to Ned.

"You have another wolf."

Robert looked back at his wife the same time that Nysa looked at Ser Preston. Her eyes went wide and she shook her head slightly, giving a pleading look with him as he closed his eyes and looked back at the King.

"As you will," was the King's response.

"You can't mean it. It's no pet," Lord Stark tried to stop the King.

"He doesn't mean Lady, does he? No, Lady is good," Sansa shouted. "Lady did not bite anyone," she looked at the Prince then.

"Lady wasn't even there," Nysa joined in, staring at Ser Preston.

"You stay away from her," Arya protested to the Queen.

Tears began to run down Sansa's face as the realization of what was happening began to sink in. She shook her head, pleading with Lord Stark. "You can't let them. It wasn't Lady," Sansa said. "Nysa tell them she's good! Please Nysa," Sansa looked at her before turning to her father. "Father, it wasn't Lady!"

This wasn't right. The animal had done nothing wrong. "Is this your command, your grace," Lord Stark stepped towards him but the only reply was to have King Robert walked away.

"Where is the beast," the Queen asked.

Yes, Nysa thought, where is Lady? Ser Preston was still looking at her when he answered. "Chained up outside by the stable, your grace."

"Ser Ilyn, will you do the honor?"

"No, if it must be done. I'll do it myself," Ned replied.

"Is this some sort of trick?"

"The wolf is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher. Nysa, take the," he paused and looked at the crowd that was gathered but there was no sign of Nysa anywhere to be seen. "Where is your sister," Ned asked Jory.

Jory looked about before shaking his head. "She was right here, my Lord."

"Another one missing," Prince Joffrey tutted. "We'll never reach King's Landing now."

"Jory, take the girls to bed," Ned ordered him, "Wyl and Desmond, come with me to find Lady Nysa."

"The dire wolf, Lord Stark," Cersei reminded him.

"Aye," he looked at her, "I'll bring her to you."

Ned hurried out, hoping that they would catch Nysa sneaking the wolf away before any of the royal guards did.

"My Lord," Wyl grabbed his arm and nodded to a horse being pulled by Sandor Clegane.

He marched over there and shook his head. It was the butcher's boy. They had him murdered by the Hound. The guards exchanged some insulting words with the Hound before following Lord Stark. If the guards caught on to the fact that Nysa was intending to release Lady, then she would suffer the same fate. Ned knew all too well the dangerous things that the Lannister guards were capable of.

Ned hurried then as he heard other guards coming out. Desmond and Wyl close behind him, came to halt when they saw that Lady was no longer there.

"She could not have gotten far," Wyl told him.

"Hurry," Ned instructed them. "We must find Nysa before they do. Or they'll treat her the way they did the butcher's boy."

They followed their Lord close as he hurried past towards the woods. Desmond helped track for a bit but the air was thick and allowed for a mist to grow. It was not easy to see in the dark. Ned wanted to call out to the girl, warn her that she had to stop before the other guards caught her. Then again, what if they already had? Ned took out his sword then and continued, jumping over branches, tree roots as his gaze darted everywhere for a sign of them.

"Lord Stark," Desmond called out. Ned turned back to see a broken chain. "She has freed the wolf."

It was then that they heard whispers a short distance off. Quickly, they covered ground, heading towards her voice.

"Go Lady," Nysa encouraged.

The wolf whimpered.

"You don't understand. If you stay, they'll have your head. Go and find Nymeria," she insisted. "Find your sister, stick together," she added.

There were more whimpers that left the wolf.

"You're a good girl, Lady," Nysa said as a tear fell down her face, "just like Sansa. I'll watch over her now but you must leave. Go," she pushed the wolf.

Ned watched as Lady hesitated for a few moments. She looked at Nysa and then off into the darkness. She walked back but Nysa would shake her head at her. Nysa gestured again for her to leave. He was torn between coming out now to stop the dire wolf from leaving and allowing his daughter an ounce of happiness knowing that the wolf would be free. It was not until he heard a howl that Lady took off and ran away. His felt himself smile at the young woman who crouched in the dark. She knew that is wrong, what happened in the hall was unjust. Ned put back his sword and knew that mercy had been given by this young maiden. Nysa got up then, picking up her skirts and headed back to the Inn.

She had just run around the tree when Lord Stark grabbed her, pushing her back. Thinking that it was Ser Preston who betrayed her or the Queen who sent men to find her, Nysa struggled for bit as the hand covered her mouth with much force. She reached her legs out, just like Torrhen had taught her only to be met with Lord Stark's voice.

"Hush now," he shook her a bit until she saw that it was him holding her.

She nodded and slowly Lord Stark released his hold. Wyl and Desmond appeared not too far behind him but kept watch if they were followed.

"Where is Lady," he asked.

"I do not know."

"The truth, Nysa," Lord Stark pressed, "where did you send her to?"

"With Nymeria," Nysa answered. She turned and looked towards the woods. "Hopefully far from here," she finished.

* * *

Robb looked around as his mother led them further into the godswood. He looked down at her hands and shook his head. He should have kept some men back in the keep, guarding her. The only consolation was that Summer had been there, guarding over Bran. He wanted his father here. He wanted Jon to be here. He wanted Nysa, Arya and Sansa all to be here. He wanted them all home.

His mother walked further up to stand on higher ground, before turning to face them. "What I am about to tell you must remain between us," she urged them. "I don't think that Bran fell from that tower."

"None of us did," Robb responded, "Nysa told her brother." He turned to Ser Rodrik, "but Jory said that was dangerous talk."

"The boy was always sure footed," Maester Luwin nodded, "we've seen him climbing about Winterfell. We all have."

"So, we agree then that he was thrown," Lady Catelyn said as they looked back at her. "Someone tried to kill him twice. Why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless," she sighed, "he saw something he was not supposed to see."

"Saw what, my Lady," asked Theon.

"I don't know but I would stake my life that the Lannister's are involved."

Robb shook his head and felt the anger surge through him again as he looked down at his mother's hands. The first attempt was to have his brother thrown from the tower and the second was the night of the fire. They had played him for a fool by starting that fire.

"Did you notice the dagger the killer used? It's too fine a weapon. The blade is Valyrian steel, the handle dragon-bone," Ser Rodrik took out the dagger.

"Valyrian steel is hard to come by," Robb agreed, "Father's sword has been passed down through the generations. Nysa received her sword from her family," he looked to his mother. "Someone must have given that man the blade."

His mother nodded. "Who else would have the coin to pay for it but a Lannister?"

Robb shook his head at her statement. "They came into our home and tried to murder Bran. If it's war they want..."

"If it comes to that, you know I'll stand by you," Theon put an arm on his shoulder.

"What," Maester Luwin stopped them. "Is there to be a battle in the godswood? Too easily words of war become acts of war," he urged them as Robb shook his head. "We do not know the truth yet. Lord Stark must be told of this."

"I don't trust a raven to carry these words," his mother shook her head as well.

"Mother," Robb insisted. "I could write to Nysa, make it look like it was a letter between two lovers," Robb explained as Theon snorted. His mother gave him a reprimanding look.

"A love letter to my niece," Ser Rodrik snorted, "as ridiculous as I think it, the idea may work, my Lady," he turned to Lady Stark. "She has already written a letter to myself and if it serves me correctly, one arrived yesterday for your son," he nodded to Robb.

"There was a mishap on the Kingsroad with the dire-wolves. All I would write is a simple response," Robb encouraged, "and I can lace the sentence with a warning to father."

"A good plan," she shook her head, "but I cannot risk it."

"Then let me go to King's Landing," he took a step forward.

"No," Lady Catelyn answered as her son looked at her. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I will go."

"Mother, you can't..."

"I must."

This isn't what Robb wanted. He wanted everyone to stay home, he did not want more people to leave. And especially not his mother.

"I will send some guards with you," Ser Rodrik began.

"No," she ordered, "the larger the party, the more attention it will draw. The last thing we want is the Lannister's to find out what we know."

"Let me accompany you, at least," Ser Rodrik stated. "If what my niece wrote to your son and myself is correct, the Kingsroad will be no safe journey for a Lady travelling on her own."

She nodded which made Robb curse. "Mother, I cannot allow you to leave." She turned to look at him. "What about Rickon? He is lost and confused. He was alright when Nysa was here but now she is gone! I do not know what to do with him. And there is Bran," he gestured towards the keep, "what of him? What are we to..."

"I have prayed to the Seven for over a month. His life is in their hands," she replied.

Maester Luwin took a step forward. "Your mother is right," he encouraged Robb, "we have done all that we could do."

"As for Rickon," she got Robb's attention again, "I will speak to him before I leave. And my son," she walked towards him, "do not write to Nysa."

"Mother..."

"Do not write to her, not even a letter of love," she shook her head. "We do not know what dangers she is in. I believe that Arya's wolf was protecting her the same way Bran's had done for him. But the Queen manipulated the situation," she grabbed onto his shoulders. "She will do the same now if you write a letter to her."

Robb turned his head away. Nysa would think that he no longer cared for her if he did not write. His last words were that he would write to her. Robb may not have promised anything but he did hope that there would be a chance. If he neglected to write, even just once...

"I know you care for her, my son. But if you wish to keep her safe, you must not write to her," Lady Catelyn assured him. "You mustn't," she pleaded.

Robb closed his eyes and nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Arya rode on top of the horse with Nysa. Sansa had refused to talk to either of them. Nysa would tell her once they were settled that Lady had been released and was running with Nymeria now. Arya told her that there was no need, Sansa would not believe her. Nysa knew that it would help encourage Sansa though and decided it would be best that Sansa knew the truth.

Arya turned around to face her and smiled. "We're here!" Nysa took a deep breath as they rode into the Capital. Something blinded her eyes for a moment and she was struck with a memory of a woman singing to her.

"Nysa?"

She shook her head and saw her brother looking at her.

"Nysa, are you alright?"

She nodded in response. "Just the immensity of it all."

"It is nothing compared to Winterfell," Arya said quickly as Nysa chuckled and kicked their horse forward.

Looking around, she could not help but think that it was grand like Winterfell but it held so much color here. Nysa thought it just as beautiful as Winterfell but decided to keep that comment reserved for later or perhaps her next letter that she'd write to the North. For a moment, she wondered if she was to stay close to Jory's quarters or if Lord Stark would place her nearer to Sansa and Arya.

"Welcome Lord Stark," a man came out and bowed before Lord Stark. "Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the small council. Your presence is requested."

Lord Stark turned around to them. "Get the girls settled in," he instructed Septa Mordane. "I'll be back in time for supper. Jory, you go with them."

"Yes, my Lord," her brother answered.

"And Nysa," Lord Stark called her as she was helping Arya down from their horse. "You will come with me."

"My Lord Stark, the meeting is for..."

Lord Stark turned to look at him and the man simply coughed before nodding.

"Why would father ask you to go with him and not your brother," Arya asked.

"Arya," Septa Mordane scolded.

"It is alright," Nysa told her before leading Arya towards the door. "I do not know the answer myself. Perhaps I will be doing something boring as serving wine and water, just as how I did when we were stopped in the Barrowlands. But imagine all the interesting information I am about to learn from merely pouring wine for the small council. Won't this be an interesting tale to tell Jon?"

"It would be," Arya smiled.

"You best go and find a room you like before your sister," Nysa encouraged. It made Arya take off quickly into the tower.

Lord Stark explained things along the way. She would serve the water and wine to the small council - just as she told Arya. Then he stopped the two of them once they had entered another room. "This is the throne room," he stated as the doors closed behind them. "This is where people come to court and stand before the King, much like what happened at the Inn."

"I am sorry, my Lord," she began, "about what happened during..."

He shook his head. "We must be cautious of who we talk to here, do you understand?" She nodded. "You know a sense of justice, honor and mercy that is not known here in the South. Not even among Kings," he added. "The people here advise the King and follow his orders. Some of them, carry out tasks behind his back." She nodded to show she understood. "Not everyone here can be trusted. Not everyone will speak truth, especially here in King's Landing."

"Of course, my Lord," Nysa nodded again.

"Remember the North, remember what Lady Stark and I taught you, remember names and faces and their Houses," he urged. "I brought you here to do more than speak to your Lord Uncle, Nysa."

"What do you mean?"

"Thank the Gods you're here Stark," she heard a voice call from within.

Lord Stark turned to the man before looking at her. "Stay here," he commanded. Nysa nodded and fell back, looking around at the throne room.

She did not think that it would have been this grand. When she wrote her next letter, she would not know how to describe it. The glass windows were beautiful. The designs on the columns were magnificent. She could not have been more entranced than she was at this moment. Nysa looked down as she saw her dress. Perhaps she and Lord Stark should have changed their clothes for the meeting with the small council. It was then that she looked ahead at Lord Stark and saw he was talking to Ser Jamie. She took a few steps forward before stopping, a sudden voice calling in her head. She spun around but no one was there.

" _Throne_ ," she heard a child's voice.

Again, Nysa turned but saw no one there. She looked back at the Iron Throne and took a deep breath at seeing how impressive it looked. Her eyes narrowed as she continued forward.

"When the Mad King died, I remember him laughing when your father burned," Nysa heard Ser Jamie as she drew closer. "It felt like justice."

"Is that what you tell yourself at night," Lord Stark asked. "That you were serving justice when you shoved your sword in Aerys Targaryen's back?"

"Tell me, would you mind if I had stabbed him in his belly instead of his back?"

Either way he was a Kingslayer, Nysa wanted to point out but she saw Lord Stark take a step towards Ser Jamie and say something that almost made his arrogant smirk disappear.

"Come Nysa," he called for her then as she picked up her skirts and hurried after him. She spared a glance Ser Jamie's way before looking once more at the Iron Throne. Her steps faltered in front of them, hearing the child's voice again. _Throne_. "It is impressive to finally see up close, isn't it," Lord Stark walked towards her.

"I think it's beautiful," she whispered. "They say that Aegon had a thousand swords used to forge this throne. He used his dragon Balerion." Her feet took her closer towards the structure. Slowly, her hand reached out and touched one of the blades at the bottom. _Throne._ A smile formed on her lips as she felt the cool edge before withdrawing from it.

"Nysa."

"Forgive me, Lord Stark," embarrassingly looking away.

"It is quite alright," he nodded before holding out his arm to gesture for them to continue to the meeting.

As they entered, a serving maid looked at Nysa before bowing her head and departing.

"Lord Stark."

Nysa turned to see a bald, somewhat heavy man approaching them. He seemed friendly but Nysa kept Lord Stark's advice close to her mind. As friendly as he looked, this man could be untrustworthy. He had on a most regal outfit and Nysa had to turn towards the cups to hide her smile. She was no longer in the North.

"Lord Varys," Lord Stark replied.

"I was terribly saddened to hear of the troubles on the Kingsroad. We are all praying for Prince Joffrey's quick recovery."

Nysa snorted lightly as she poured a cup of water.

"A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butcher's son," Lord Stark said.

Nysa smiled then, remembering Tyrion's words. _"But remember, you need your wits too, when in King's Landing."_ It would appear as though Lord Stark knew that as well. She followed to where Lord Stark went to sit, placing the cup down for him. As he discussed his brother Brandon with one of the other council members.

"Would you like something to drink, my Lord," she asked the man next to Lord Stark.

"Lord Renly Baratheon," he smiled at her, taking her hand and lifting it to his mouth.

"The King's brother," she asked.

"Aye," he nodded, "and water is fine." She nodded and went to pour his cup. "Thank you, my Lady." She was about to correct him but instead turned sharply towards the other man speaking about Lady Catelyn.

"It wasn't the man that I chose, my Lord. It was Catelyn Tully, a woman worth fighting for," he said with a daring look towards Lord Stark. "I'm sure you'll agree."

"Catelyn Stark," Nysa spoke up.

He turned then and saw Nysa. "Excuse me?"

"That woman's name is Catelyn _Stark_ ," Nysa repeated. "And she has been the Lady of House Stark for many years." She paused and upon seeing that others were looking at her, she dipped into a curtsy, "my Lord."

The man cast a confused look around the room for a moment before settling back on her. "I..."

"I just thought that with the way you spoke of her, you may have forgotten that she wed Lord Stark and became Lady to a great House, my Lord."

His eyes narrowed at her for a moment. "I have not forgotten," he said before smiling and looking towards Lord Stark. "And is this your bastard daughter? I heard that you had one of those."

"No," Lord Stark answered simply before sitting down.

"Might I introduce myself then," he stepped closer to the table. "I am Lord Petyr Baelish," he nodded to Nysa. "And you are..."

"Serving the water and the wine," she smiled in reply. "Which would you prefer, my Lord?"

The King's brother released a slight chuckle before moving to sit down.

"Wine," Lord Baelish answered as Nysa went to the tray. She took out the cup and began to pour a cup for Lord Baelish.

"You were a young man," she caught the words from the Maester sitting in the corner as she set the cup down for Lord Baelish.

"And you served another King," Lord Stark commented.

Nysa bit her lip and moved to towards the first man who approached Lord Stark. "My Lord," she asked.

"Water," he answered. "And may I inquire as to how you came to be in our service this fine day?"

"I am just a serving maid here to pour the wine and water."

"Yes, but who are you really," he asked. "Serious things are often discussed here that one must ask."

Nysa nodded. "My father was a knight that served House Stark. My Uncle, also a knight, serves as the master-at-arms for House Stark. My brother is captain of the guard for House Stark," she smiled and leaned down. "I am here to do the same as my family, my Lord."

"Well met, my Lady."

"Without the King," Lord Stark asked then, drawing both her and Lord Varys's attention his way.

"Winter may be coming," Lord Renly began, "but the same does not apply to my brother."

"Ah yes, His Grace has many cares. He entrusts some small matters to us that we may lighten the load," he explained, "thank you, my dear," he thanked Nysa as she set the cup down.

She nodded towards the man and went to stand on the side after being dismissed by the Grand Maester. She listened to the council discuss a tournament in honor of Lord Stark. A smile formed on her face as she thought of Sansa. Perhaps that could brighten her mood. Her attention was won when they mentioned the prizes that could be won. Her brother would want to know of it. She looked down and sighed when they mentioned archery. Chances are, she would not be able to submit herself in the competition.

Lord Stark's raised voice made her look up when speaking about finances and how much was owed to the Lannisters. Quickly she grabbed the wine and walked towards Lord Baelish who had just run out.

"More w..."

She smiled and took Lord Baelish's cup from his hand and poured it before he could finish.

"Thank you," he nodded. "As I was saying the Crown is in debt. The Master of Coin finds the money. The King and the Hand," he gestured to Lord Stark before lifting the cup to his mouth, "spend it."

She doubted that they could spend that much coin and wondered the same as Lord Stark. The Grand Maester began to speak and she watched how he seemed to be a simple-minded man. Perhaps a little influence on the council but obviously, a man of his talents was needed. She studied the rest of the conversation, observing how Lord Stark was set against this tournament. Now that she knew the King had bankrupted the Realm, she did not want one either. Another smile formed on her lips as she thought of how Robb would not be able to handle such matters. He could barely work out the accounts for Winterfell.

"Still, we best make our plans," Lord Baelish insisted as she walked towards Lord Renly's cup.

"There will be no plans until I speak to Robert," Lord Stark's voice boomed in the room as everyone seem to fall silent.

She looked around before taking a step further towards the table. "Forgive Lord Stark, my Lords," Nysa started, "we've had a far journey and encountered some trouble along the way," she nodded to Lord Varys.

Lord Varys nodded towards her before turning away. "You are Hand of the King, Lord Stark. We serve at your pleasure."

"Then perhaps we could convene at another time, after I speak to the King," Lord Stark stated as he made to stand. "Lady Nysa, will see that any other matters come to my attention."

She nodded before turning towards the Lords.

"May I solicit an audience with her," asked Lord Varys.

* * *

"What did Lord Varys want," asked Lord Stark as they headed back towards the tower of the Hand. "Your conversation seemed short."

"He desired to know about my family. I explained to him only what the general populace knows. My mother is a Lady from the South and my father is a knight from the North. I do not know anything else, other than my brother Jory and my Uncle, Ser Rodrik," she answered.

"You were cautious about things that were said?"

"Yes, my Lord," she nodded.

"Good," he smiled and held the door open for her to enter. "You are to keep a room near Arya." She nodded again. "Your brother is just down the hall. I will ask that other than being at Sansa and Arya's service that you could follow your brother and I to certain meetings."

"Like that of the small council," Nysa asked.

"Aye," he replied. "Your brother will fetch if when needed."

"I fear if I leave Arya again then..."

"I will have another guard watch her. After all, what other troubles could they be getting into?" They both shared a laugh before their eyes lay on Arya being led away by Septa Mordane. "What is going on here?"

Arya sighed and shook her head as the Septa began to explain.

"Go to your room, I'll speak with you after."

Arya nodded but not before sending a smile Nysa's direction. Nysa moved towards the open chair and faced Sansa. "Sansa, I wanted to tell you something about Lady. That night that..."

"I do not wish to speak of Lady," Sansa sassed.

Septa Mordane looked over at her. "Sansa, that is rude."

"The Queen did not like the beast, so why should I mourn her," Sansa questioned.

"There's no need to mourn her," Nysa went to reach for Sansa's hand but she withdrew it. She bit her bottom lip and looked down. "Sansa, I just thought it help if I tell you what happened." Sansa turned away from facing her. Nysa felt like her heart had broken. Sansa always looked up to Nysa when she was a young child. She copied Nysa, often confided in Nysa and now it was like something had changed.

"Why don't you see to Arya, Nysa?" She looked up to see Lord Stark with the same pain in his eyes that she felt and nodded sadly.

She opened the door to Arya's chambers, still feeling hurt about what happened with Sansa. "Doesn't anyone knock anymore," Arya asked.

"Why? Do you have a knight hiding in here that your father not know about," Nysa turned around and smiled as Arya stuck out her tongue.

"A knight hiding here," she snorted, "seven Hells!"

"Arya that is no such way for a Lady to talk."

"You talk like that all the time with Jon and Robb."

Nysa smiled as she sat on the bed. "And as I said that is no way for a Lady to talk," she patted the bed as Arya sighed. "Now will you tell me what happened outside?"

"Sansa won't admit it but she lied at the Inn about Prince Joffrey," Arya looked at her.

"I know she did," Nysa brushed some of Arya's hair back.

"And Septa Mordane doesn't like me."

Nysa laughed. "I thought we went over this. Isn't it best to just follow what she says and then after lessons are done, you can do whatever it is that you want," Nysa suggested. "How do you think I got through my lessons with her?"

"It's different because you were the eldest, the first one for her to watch over," Arya shook her head. "Then Sansa followed and after that it was Jeyne. And even your cousin Beth," she protested. "Why can't I learn the bow like you?"

"I've taught you the bow and quite frankly Arya, I think you would surpass me," Nysa smiled.

Arya shook her head. "No, you know the bow well. You could out-shoot anyone in the North."

"Do you know what I heard during the small council meeting?" Arya brightened at that. "They are to hold a tourney in your father's honor. They are to have an archery competition. I want to enter but I doubt it that it would be much appreciated here."

"You could always hide under an armor, pretend to be Jory," she suggested as Nysa laughed then.

"Jory would have a fine bosom wouldn't he," Nysa said as Arya blushed and began to laugh as well.

"What else did you see," Arya asked her with eager anticipation.

Nysa explained how she met Petyr Baelish who Arya mentioned was known as 'Littlefinger'. Then she spoke about Lord Varys and the Grand Maester. Nysa did not seem to take a liking to any of them. But she did think that the King's brother was rather good looking. When Arya gave her a look of disgust, Nysa smiled and assured her that men like Jory, Torrhen, Jon and Robb were still handsome to her.

"Will you write to Jon about the meeting?"

"Probably," Nysa nodded.

"Will you tell him about my sword-play?"

"I spoke a little about it in my last letter but I did not tell him of what happened." Arya sighed in relief. "Though, I did mention it to Robb." That made Arya groan in displeasure. "Perhaps he will not be too upset with you. You know your brother loves you."

"I miss them. I want to go back home."

Nysa laughed. "It's only been our first day here."

"The Queen had me send Nymeria away. You had to send Lady away," she looked at Nysa before getting up and walking to her trunk.

"Arya..."

She took out her sword and looked at it intently. The way her eyes stared at it, reminded Nysa of how Jon would often stare at something with such emotion pouring through him. Arya wore the same look. "I wish I could take out my sword and challenge the Prince to a real duel. I'd cut his other arm to match the one Nymeria bit at."

"Arya..." Nysa tried again but this time a knock at the door.

"Go away!"

"Arya," Lord Stark's voice came from the other side. "Open the door," he commanded. Arya sighed but it was Nysa who went towards it, taking off the latch and nodding towards Lord Stark. "May you excuse us, Nysa?"

"Of course, my Lord."

He took her arm just before she could fully walk away. "Forgive Sansa," he urged. "She did not mean it."

Nysa nodded once more before walking across the hall where her room was. She would try to talk to Sansa again later.

Almost an entire week had passed with Sansa still quietly grieving the loss of the Prince's company. Nysa had sat in two more small-council meetings, neither of which the King attended. In fact, Nysa had rarely seen the King present in court or any other place. If she was not with Lord Stark, then he encouraged her to sit with Septa Mordane and Sansa. After discussing with Sansa her betrothal - and met with quiet hostility - Septa Mordane turned to Nysa and spoke about her possible betrothal to Torrhen Karstark.

"Nothing is certain," Nysa answered shyly.

"If I hear correctly, the matter is being seriously considered by both Lord Karstark and Lord Stark himself," Septa Mordane smiled. "Marriage to House Karstark is a fine thing indeed."

"How could it be if she is marrying the third-born son," Sansa questioned, putting her sewing down. "There's nothing fine about that. He won't inherit anything."

"I don't care for much," Nysa replied gently. "After all I do come from humble origins," she looked to Septa Mordane.

"How modest," she commented in return with a hint of approval.

"Yes, humble origins are a light way of saying you were a bastard."

"Lady Sansa," Septa Mordane began to chastise her.

Sansa turned to Nysa. "Forgive me, Nysa. I did not mean it," she apologized quickly.

But it sounded rehearsed, Nysa thought. She nodded and thanked Sansa for her words before requesting to retire early for the night. She was still in her room brooding over what she could do about Sansa when there was a knock at the door. Cayn stood outside and gave her a small bow.

"Forgive me, Lady Nysa," Cayn began, "but your brother sent me for you."

It was rather dark out, causing her to wonder why Jory would be needing her at this hour. She hurried down towards the front of the tower to see that he was not there either. Nysa sighed and began to walk across the yard toward the stables. Wyl was there, tending to a familiar horse.

"Biter," she proclaimed as the horse's ears twitched at his name. "How did you get here, boy?"

Wyl chuckled and gave Nysa instructions to go out into the City. That is where she would find her brother and also the reason for the horse's presence. She was a bit frightened to do so but quickly went out to meet Jory, walking down and turning right when she was told to do so. There were not that many guards out here. In fact, there was not a soul in sight.

She saw a horse belonging to House Stark at the end of the street and picked up her skirts, rushing towards it. "Jory," she whispered as he turned to look her way.

"Sh," Jory scolded her as she came to a halt by his side. "Lord Stark has important business he's finishing here. Not to mention, I thought you'd want to see our Uncle."

"Uncle?"

Jory lifted his hand, pointing a finger at the other end of the street. There stood her Uncle, serious as ever. He nodded to her. She smiled and had just gone to speak to him before spotting the other figure there.

"Lady Catelyn," Nysa exclaimed as she was gestured again to walk forward. Lady Catelyn - who was still in the arms of her husband - smiled lightly at her. She hurried past Lord and Lady Stark before running towards her Uncle. "Oh Uncle," she threw her arms around him.

It was then that she spotted the horse she had rode out of Winterfell on - her Uncle holding the reins. After the long journey, Jory and her Uncle must have decided to switch horses. Biter would stay here and the horses they had brought would be used to return Lady Stark and her Uncle. She almost envied the horse.

"I wish we were back at Winterfell. I wish..."

"Hush now," he pushed her back slightly before tapping her chin, "keep your head up, child. It can't be all that bad."

"People here are deceiving. The Queen is cruel and the Prince is heartless. Sansa is upset with me and I don't understand why. And then there's the Lords on the small council," she shook her head.

"You've met with the small council?"

"Lord Stark has invited me to sit in. He said that I should learn. But all I'm learning is that there is manipulation and deceit. And the King is barely a King at all."

"Be careful, young lady," he warned. "Those are hateful thoughts that can lead to disastrous actions. Your brother is looking after you, I'm sure." Ser Rodrik looked over her head, "that is if you've been behaving."

"Of course, she has Uncle," Jory shouted across the yard. Nysa could tell that he was being sarcastic and shook her head, sporting an innocent smile before turning towards their Uncle.

"What are you and Lady Catelyn doing here?"

Ser Rodrik looked up again before turning back towards her. "The lions are dangerous here, my niece. We've come to warn Lord Stark. You best watch yourself."

"What is happening," she questioned but it was then that Lady Catelyn appeared.

"Run along now, Nysa. Listen to your brother and my husband, alright." Nysa nodded before giving her Uncle another hug. She was about to hurry back to Jory when Lady Catelyn grabbed her arm. "Do not tell the girls that I was here, do you understand?"

"But..."

"They must not know," she cautioned. "Remind them that I love them both, that I want to protect them, all of them. They must listen to their father, to Jory, to you," she said. "I am proud of what you did on the Kingsroad with those dire wolves. The Gods know I did not want them in the Winterfell," she smiled, "but I have seen how they've protected my children. Lady was not the only member of House Stark the Lannisters wanted to kill. You remember that, Nysa," she placed her hands on her shoulder, "remember they will kill anything and anyone that gets in their way."

* * *

Jon twirled the golden flower in his fingers before smiling and placing it down. Nysa had no idea the joy that he felt when receiving her letter. He thought it would have been much longer until she wrote to him. But after everything that had happened here at the Wall, he was glad that she had wrote. She described her journey and now he'd tell her his.

 _It is large, I can guarantee you that. It is larger than anything I have expected. To think that a Stark built it - and as you would say he did it with the help of giants and the children of the forest, magic and sorcery. That was not meant to mock you. I was just remembering how you would try to best Robb and I during our lessons._

A chuckle left Jon's mouth. He shook his head, trying to picture Nysa's face when she read those words. She would laugh about it later.

 _Tyrion thought it was a magnificent sight. I was privileged to enjoy his company on the road. He's a bit rough around the edges. He delivered your letter along with the letter from Winterfell explaining to me that Bran has awakened. That day started off horrid but ended nicely once I read the letters and spoke to Tyrion. I must say that I have somewhat found a friend of sorts in him. My new brothers mocked me upon my arrival. They called me 'Lord Snow' and the ever common one - bastard. Tyrion helped me put things into perspective and I was reminded of how you and I had training that no other person of lower status could have. There is one boy here, who cannot read or write. Another who never picked up a sword before in his life. And despite many of their sad stories, I remembered that I was given privileges none of them had. It also makes me realize that the Wall has no true fighters, no real soldiers. I've taken to training them._

"Good for you, Jon," he could imagine Nysa smiling at him. "I'm glad you've made this place your own."

He closed his eyes and her face disappeared from before him. Her words floated away in the wind. It had not been that long that they were apart but still he prayed he could see her, he prayed he could see all of them, talk to them. With a sigh, Jon sat up and began to write again.

 _I miss my family, everyone - especially you. Almost as soon as I came, Uncle Benjen left to go beyond the Wall. I wanted to go with him. I know I could fight whatever is out there. He will be gone for months. Yes, I have gained brothers and made friends but they do not replace the hole in me that should contain all of you._

 _It is so white, so cold here at the Wall, Nysa. It is a space of emptiness, blinding snow and deafening wind. I was glad that you sent a piece of your journey with you. If I could, I send you a piece of the Wall but I fear it would melt before it even leaves the North. I have the gloves you made for me as well as the small clothes so do not worry about how I am staying warm._

He blushed and remembered Tyrion finding the small clothes. They were warmer than others, he said in his defense. To his gratitude, Tyrion said nothing to the others. To his horror, he did ask how it came to be that she had made it for them. Nysa had tried measuring him and Robb one night to make it. She argued that at Karhold they used another sort of material that helps dry quicker and keep the air out. Robb had quickly taken off his tunic and breeches. It was not the first time he had done so in front of Nysa. But truth be told the last time was well before they were grown.

 _I have not received any other letter from Winterfell - other than informing me of Bran's well-being. I wonder what it is like now - without you, Arya and father there. I pray that I can protect my home from whatever monsters are over the Wall. Do you think they are real, Nysa? Do you think that_

"Writing letters to your seamstress, Lord Snow?" Jon smiled and put down the quill, turning to see Tyrion. "The two of you are rather interesting bastards, you know that, right?"

"And you are a rather interesting dwarf," Jon countered.

Tyrion snorted before both shared a laugh. "Come with me," Tyrion gestured as Jon got up from his chair.

As Jon followed him out, he thought about where he was being led and realized that he'd trust the little Lannister over many of the other men here. It seemed odd to think highly of someone who spoke so bluntly. Jon looked around as Tyrion led them towards the top of the Wall. He thought the little man was about to jump. That is until he heard the unmistakable sound of relieving oneself. Tyrion was taking a piss off the Wall. He did say that he would do it. Jon could not help but chuckle.

Tyrion turned around and shook his head. "When you do go out ranging, do tell me if my piss froze," he smirked.

Jon shook his head before dropping his smile. "I'm sorry to see you leave, Lannister."

Tyrion seemed shocked by the honest confession. In truth, Tyrion came to enjoy Jon Snow's company as well. The boy was a bit too serious for his age - unlike the female Snow counterpart. He did not want to admit it but this bastard was a pretty decent fellow.

"It's either me or this cold and it doesn't appear to be going anywhere," he looked away from Jon.

"Do you plan on stopping by Winterfell on your way South?"

"I expect I will," he replied. "The Gods know there aren't much feather-beds from here to King's Landing."

"If you see my brother Bran," Jon sighed, "tell him I miss him."

"Of course," Tyrion nodded.

Jon shook his head, thinking about Bran. He, Robb and Nysa may have caused a lot of havoc while they were growing up but Bran could explore places that they could never get to. And now, he released a sigh thinking about it. "He'll never walk again."

"Aye. But if you're going to be a cripple, better to be a rich cripple," Tyrion told him, once again reminding Jon that Bran would still have advantages that others would not. "Take care, Snow."

"Farewell, my Lord," Jon shook his hand before stepping aside to let him pass.

Jon looked out over the Wall one last time. He was not there for them now. Arya was practicing sword-playing. He should be there to help her, teach her. He gave her sword but was that enough? Robb was there, learning how to be a Lord but Jon knew that Robb would always ask him for advice. Sansa always ignored him and Theon. She would become Queen and he would not see any of that. Nysa would be with him - even at night - telling him that things were alright and listening to his concerns. She always listened. Bran and Rickon, he thought about next as he stared over the snow. He missed them. He missed them all.

* * *

"How exciting," Nysa heard Sansa's squeal of delight. Arya rolled her eyes and was about to run back to her room when Nysa grabbed her arm and pulled her to the front.

"The tourney is in honor of your father," Nysa told her. "It be best if you show up and support him, don't you think?"

"I rather be practicing my lessons," Arya snorted.

So far, the only persons who knew about Arya's lessons - other than Arya and her dance instructor - was Nysa, Jory and a few other guards who would ensure that she arrived on time. After discovering the sword, Lord Stark decided that Arya ought to learn how to use the sword, properly that is. Nysa had gone to Arya's first lesson to watch her as she wrote her second letter to Jon. She read his letter while writing hers and smiled constantly at his words.

"I told Jon of your dancing lessons," Nysa smiled.

"And what did he say," Arya asked excitedly.

"I'm not sure. I have not got his response, yet," she smiled and shook her head. "But he is having lessons of his own."

"Why," Arya questioned, "Jon knows how to use the sword."

Nysa let out a small laugh then. "What I should have said is that Jon is giving lessons," she corrected as Arya tilted her head. "The others at the Wall do not know how to use the sword so he is helping them."

Arya smiled. "If anyone can teach them, it would be Jon. He knows how to fight."

"So as much as we miss him, do you see how a man like Jon was needed at the Wall? We may want him here with us, but imagine if he didn't go there," Nysa explained. "There would be men who are untrained serving as the Night's Watch. I'm proud that Jon went."

"Now that you mention it, I'm proud he went too," Arya smiled.

"Nysa," the both turned to see Sansa hurrying to her side. "I've been invited to dine with the Queen."

"I guess it isn't about the tourney," Arya mumbled as Nysa bit her bottom lip to hold back a laugh.

"How gracious of her Grace to honor you with such an invitation," Nysa said, patting Arya's shoulder encouragingly.

"Yes, how gracious of her," Arya deadpanned. Nysa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before looking back at Arya who merely shrugged. It was possibly the best she could do and Nysa should not hold it against her.

"I wanted you to come with me," Sansa said.

"But..."

"Father said it would be okay. He has to see the Grand Maester and some other business," Sansa waved her hand. "I want you to come with me. I must look good for her and behave my best and you can help me with that. Please Nysa," she pleaded grabbing onto Nysa's hand.

"After you've been ignoring her," Arya asked, narrowing her eyes at her sister.

"Nysa knows that I was simply in one of my moods. Please Nysa," she began to beg, "this might be my one chance to apologize to the Queen for my behavior on the Kingsroad."

"Your behavior," Nysa questioned. "You did exactly what she wanted you to do."

"And that involved lying," Arya finished.

Sansa eyed her younger sister before turning towards Nysa. "I need to make her happy. I need the Queen to be pleased with me. Please Nysa," she asked again.

Nysa sighed and went to help Sansa get ready. She still had not told Sansa about Lady. Sansa was making it rather difficult for her to talk and Nysa knew she could not say it anytime she wanted to, not with the warning she took to heart from her Uncle, Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark. She had just finished braiding Sansa's hair and decided to help her into her gown when Sansa began to talk about how much she wanted the Queen's approval, how it would mean the world to her if she could wed the Prince after what happened. She could not picture herself without him.

"Is that how you feel with Robb," Sansa asked suddenly causing Nysa to look at her in the vanity.

"I care for your brother, Sansa. That is all," Nysa answered.

"The Prince was looking at me the same way that I would see Robb looking at you," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. Nysa turned away and began to fix something else - anything as long as she was not looking at Sansa. She highly doubted that Joffrey could cast a kind look upon anyone. "I want to wed him, Nysa. And he's already displeased with me."

"He is not displeased with you," Nysa said as she sat down by Sansa.

"I took his side on the Kingsroad and yet he's been avoiding my company. It's all Arya's fault. She ruined everything!"

"She did not ruin anything, Sansa."

"We were having a pleasant time, walking like you and Robb," she turned to Nysa, "and then it all happened!"

Nysa took a deep breath and knew that now Sansa was telling the truth.

"He hit Mycah, cut his face with his sword," Sansa explained. "Arya pleaded with him to stop but then he turned his sword on her. I told them to stop. I told them!" Nysa ran her hand over Sansa's hair gently to soothe her. "He kept swinging his sword at her. I didn't think that it would have turned out so bad. Arya was on the ground when Nymeria came out and stopped Joffrey."

So, there it was, Nysa thought.

"I told them to stop," she repeated, "but they didn't and then when we were at the Inn," she shook her head as Nysa continued to comfort her. "I took his side and he is still upset with me! Why is he upset with me, Nysa?"

"A man does not like to appear weak in front of his lady. Sometimes that happened in the yard back at Winterfell," Nysa described a day that her and Robb were out practicing archery. "Robb would smile whenever I had a good shot with the bow but the second that he'd try and miss, the men would snicker at him. I had to placate Robb, say words to make him feel like a man again. That's probably all you need to do," she encouraged, "speak pretty words to the Prince, Sansa."

"I do not know what to say to him."

"Compliment him, speak of him as you are doing right now," Nysa instructed.

"I find myself unable to speak when I'm with him. He must think me a fool."

"That is the way of young love. Men will make fools of themselves as well."

"Not Prince Joffrey," Sansa shook her head. "He is smart and kind and," Sansa pouted, "and I don't know what I'll do if I don't wed him."

She could help but laugh lightly at that. "If you do not wed the Prince, I'm sure your father will be able to find another for you to wed. Perhaps a strong and brave knight that will..."

"A knight is nothing compared to Prince Joffrey," Sansa snapped as she stood up, "now let's go before we are late. I would not want the Queen to become displeased with me again."

Nysa followed Sansa towards where the Queen was hoping to have luncheon with her. It was outside in the one of the gardens. Nysa noted that two of the Kingsguards were here, one of them was Ser Preston while the other was another she did not recognize. Ser Preston nodded to her before being allowed to pass.

"Ah, Lady Sansa," the Queen held her arms open in welcome, "I am so pleased that you could come."

Nysa went immediately to grab a cup and pour some water for Sansa. Immediately the Queen's hand wrapped around her wrist and held it tightly.

"Did the Lady ask for some water?" Before she could reply, the Queen continued, "No, she did not." She released Nysa's hand and encouraged Sansa to sit while dismissing Nysa to stand on the side. "You have to train the girl better than that if she is to serve as your lady-in-waiting."

A strange feeling overcame Nysa then. She waited for Sansa's words.

"Her family has House Stark for many years," Sansa encouraged but then looked away timidly, "she knows her place."

The Queen smiled at her before turning towards Nysa. "I remember how she spoke out of turn at the Kingsroad," she began before patting Sansa's hand, "it was a most unfortunate event and I hope that you bear no ill-will toward Joffrey and me. You have to understand that your sister acted violently towards him."

"I do," Sansa nodded. "Arya always misbehaves."

"We would need to watch the company we keep, little one," she touched Sansa's cheek and Nysa had to look away again, "And what a beautiful face you have. You will do perfectly here at court. The Lords and Ladies will fawn over you. You are like a little dove, so innocent," the Queen said with a voice that made Nysa feel uncomfortable. "Train that creature over there," Nysa knew the comment was directed towards her, "and be cautious as to what your sister does. The next time, I won't be so forgiving. And you would not want to disappoint me, would you?"

"Of course not, your Grace," Sansa answered as Nysa closed her eyes and sighed.

Queen Cersei knew how to use her wits. She had Sansa wrapped around her finger. And the way Nysa was being treated as though she were nothing, she felt a little hurt. It stung when Sansa began to order her the same way that the Queen was. She saw the smile of approval that the Queen bestowed on Sansa. _"The lions are dangerous here, my niece. We've come to warn Lord Stark. You best watch yourself."_ It appears she would also have to look out for Sansa also.

* * *

"How was your luncheon with the Queen today," Jory asked his sister when she came back to help Sansa change for sup. Nysa turned to look at him before looking back out the window. It was not long until she began to sob. Jory sighed and closed the door to Nysa's room then began walking towards her. "Come, sister," he held his arms open and she gladly threw herself into them. "What happened?"

"Sansa spilled her cup of water and the Queen made me clean it up," Nysa began to explain as her body shook with her sobs, "she made me clean it up with the skirts of my dress."

Jory closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to his sister's forehead.

"She told Sansa to keep me away from the Prince. Girls like me may lead him away and with the Prince finding displeasure in Sansa at the moment, she would not want him to find favor with another," Nysa scoffed, "as if I would try to lure that insolent, vile beast! He's the beast, not Lady or Nymeria," she cried in his arms. "I know that he and Sansa are betrothed! Why would I want to take him away from her?"

"Surely Sansa rejected the idea," Jory replied. "She knows that you wouldn't dare do such a thing."

"At first, she didn't but then," Nysa paused. His sister's tears began to flow earnestly as she shook her head against his chest. It was obvious that Sansa allowed the thought to fester in her mind. "The Queen reminded her that Lord Stark had Jon and that Sansa would not want what happened to her mother to happen to her. It was just awful. I had to stand there and keep my mouth shut. I couldn't defend myself. And the more that the Queen spoke, the more Sansa agreed with her!"

"Nysa..."

"I don't understand why Sansa would let the Queen treat me like that!"

"She may be..."

"She lied about the attack on the Kingsroad, you know," his sister shouted. "Then to know that she pretended to dislike me too," she shook her head. "She treated me as though I were inferior. She's never done that before, Jory. Never!"

"Sh," Jory quieted her, rubbing her back comfortingly. "You have to keep your head up, sister. This is all the Queen's doing. We both saw how she weaved the Prince's sad tale around to those on our journey. It would be no different for us here. You cannot let the Queen see that she is getting to you. Remember what Uncle and Lady Stark told you," he pushed her back to look in her eyes, "we've come to a dangerous place, Nysa. We need to watch our backs wherever we go."

"I know," she sighed.

"As for Lady Sansa, she knows who her true friends are. She will come to see that in time, you will be her greatest ally here. Do not let the Queen see that you have given up. Understand," he asked.

Nysa nodded and wiped her face with her dress sleeve.

"Now, why don't I tell you what I did today?"

"What did you do," Nysa asked, glad for the distraction.

"I went with Lord Stark to see the City," he moved to sit them down at the edge of his sister's bed. "He's been following Lord Arryn's trail."

"Trail," she asked with a confused expression.

"Apparently, Lord Arryn was considering something and it seems as though we are on the right path."

"What did you find?"

Jory looked around the room before pulling his sister to stand and taking her towards the balcony of her room. They were open and he could see if anyone was looking at them, he gestured for her to lean against the wall before checking the side of the balcony and everything else about them.

"Do you truly believe that the walls have ears?"

"Aye," he answered before turning back to her. "Do not share this with Arya or write it in your letters back North," he instructed as she nodded. "We found the King has a son, a bastard son," Jory answered as Nysa's eyes widened. "He's about your age, maybe older. But Lord Stark said he looks just as the King did in his youth."

"Does the King know he's there?"

Jory shook his head. "I doubt anyone knows that he is there, except us and Lord Arryn."

"And now Lord Arryn is dead," Nysa whispered.

"And with the warning that we received from Uncle and Lady Stark, I think something is happening." Jory moved her back inside. "I was ill-treated as well," he placed her against the wall inside her room. "It reminded me that people are not like Lord Stark here. You'll be treated differently as will I."

"I don't understand," she shook her head. "Our father was a knight, our Uncle is a knight, why would they mistreat you?"

"Because I am not one," Jory whispered before pulling out his dagger. "I want you to carry this."

"Jory..."

"Listen to me, Nysa," he shook her slightly. She stared at him and nodded that she was paying attention. He pressed her further against the wall. "Take it," he placed it in her hand, "I know you like a bow better than a sword but you can't exactly walk around with a bow."

Jory looked intently at her to show how serious he was being about this. He moved her hand so that the blade would face him. With a quick movement, he shoved the dagger towards his chest.

"If someone pushes you into a corner, like how you are now," Jory wrapped his hand around hers, "you stab them right here."

"Jory..."

He saw the fear in his sister's eyes but he shook his head. Now was not the time to go soft or hold back. He could sense it. With the warning that Lord Stark received, the closer he got to finding out Lord Arryn's death and the way both he and his sister were being treated, he knew that no one would hold back in committing some sort of evil act against them. And Nysa would suffer the most - they made sure that young women suffered the most.

"You do not need to fight them for long if you get the dagger in here," he gestured to his chest. "You hit the heart right there. And if you miss," Jory moved their hands towards his stomach, "and hit the man anywhere else, you twist the dagger when you pull it out. Never let it go."

Nysa nodded slowly. Jory took a step back and lifted his head, exposing his neck.

"If your attacker is taller - which may happen," he took her hand and moved the blade in an upward direction towards his neck, "you stick him here, at the top of his throat, right below his chin," he repeated the gesture as he heard his sister gasp, "push it upwards into his skull, do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Jory withdrew, taking a step back again and dropping her hand. "If your attacker slaps you, hits you or does something to get you down," he motioned for her to kneel. He took a step forward and made a motion with his hand to lift hers. "You stab him here," he thrust her hand towards his thigh, "you keep on stabbing him until he falls too." Jory knelt before her. "Men don't have armor down there."

"Do you really think that it will come to that?"

He reached out and touched his sister's cheek. "I know it will."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The next day Lord Stark said that he would not be needing Jory or Nysa's services. He had things to discuss with Lord Baelish and the City Watch. And with the tourney happening today - and Jory's excitement to participate - Lord Stark allowed the siblings to have a couple days to enjoy themselves as well as the benefits of being in King's Landing. He knew that they had a rough beginning and warned them - and all his guards as well - that they were no longer in the North.

"I cannot believe that you're competing in a tourney," Nysa said as she helped Jory slip into some armor.

Lord Stark watched them before informing Jory that he was to see Lord Baelish.

"I do not like him," Nysa commented as her brother looked at her, "Lord Baelish."

"He is a friend of Lady Stark's and she urged Lord Stark that he could be trusted."

Nysa shook her head. "You did not hear him speak of Lady Catelyn in the small council meeting the way I did," she shook her head. "And earlier today when they talked about the tourney," she snorted, "he just has this look about him."

"Nysa..."

"Damn him," someone shouted as they entered the tent. Both turned to see Harwin coming in, gripping his shoulder.

"What happened," Nysa hurried to his side, helping Wyl and Cayn to remove his armor.

"He went up against Ser Meryn Trant," Wyl answered.

"I'm fine," Harwin answered, just a bit winded. He smiled at Nysa before nodding his head. "You best go and watch how they joust. Might help warn your brother," he chuckled.

"I don't need my sister to study all my opponents," Jory smiled as he walked closer to Harwin, looking him over.

Nysa glanced at Harwin and then back out the tent. The people here - especially the knights - were not always honorable people. It would be unfair if Jory went in without any knowledge of what was happening. She should have thought of that before Harwin had gone out and faced defeat at the hands of one of the Kingsguards. She walked past several tents, keeping her hand close to her thigh. Jory had told her to hide the dagger under her dress - just in case.

She looked towards the dais where Arya was sitting with Sansa and Septa Mordane. She would join her later so that the girl would not feel uncomfortable. But right now, she turned her attention towards the knights that were lined up. She listened to those who were being called. She recognized a few names and Houses from her lessons and every now and then would search for their banners to see their sigil.

"Ser Meryn," someone called out, causing Nysa to turn her head towards the voice, "your next joust will be Ser Perwyn Frey."

"Aye," Ser Meryn replied with a chuckle. "I'll win that one easily."

Nysa picked up her skirts and hurried back towards the tents only for them to announce that another Frey knight was about to begin. She looked towards the joust to see that the knight was rather large and imposing. She thought he would win the match easily. But what she saw, surprised her. The knight fell quickly.

She saw Ser Meryn glance over at the fallen Frey knight and shake his head. "See that," he gestured towards the knight, "I'll beat his brother the same way." The other guards around him began to laugh.

It unsettled Nysa greatly to see the Kingsguards treat the other men as though there were nothing. She remembered tending to Heward's wounds on the Kingsroad and how Ser Jamie had beaten him even after he surrendered. These were the knights that Bran looked up to, the knights that he desired to become like. She shook her head and hurried to see if she could find this Ser Perwyn Frey. Her eyes scanned to see the Frey sigil and followed the fallen knight back towards his tent.

What was she doing here, she thought.

She could get in a lot of trouble.

Her hand reached for her blade again - just in case.

"Oi girl," a knight shouted at her, causing her to jump back. "What are you doing here?"

She looked at him with a frightened expression. He seemed just as large as the knight who had fallen, maybe even larger. He stared at her, towering over her. "I came to relay a message to Ser Perwyn. Is this not where the Frey knights are..."

"And who are you to be seeking our brother's company," another knight appeared, not as tall as the other two.

Brother, Nysa thought. How many were there? "I am not seeking his company, Ser. I merely wish to relay a message about the joust."

"What about it," he questioned.

"I have some advice," she replied.

The second one night grabbed her arm and pulled her inside the tent. She didn't fight of scream and the two men paused to look at her before inquiring about their brother who had recently lost. She heard and then saw an old man yelling at him. She could only deduce that he was possibly their father. He said some vulgar words about the knight's mother causing Nysa to wince before he trotted towards the back of the tent.

"My brothers say you asked to speak with me."

Nysa turned to see a younger knight standing before her. He was possibly the same age as her brother but she could not tell. She also blushed at realizing that he was a bit better looking than the other knights.

"You should try to keep the lance closer to your body," she commented as the men stopped to look at her. "Do not press it against you but keep it close. If you lean too much into it, it will cause more damage than good." The knight turned to his brothers with a confused expression. "You face Ser Meryn Trant, do you not?" He nodded. "He defeated Harwin."

"Ah," the Knight nodded in recognition and then stepped forward. "And you wish to avenge this Harwin."

"Perhaps," she smiled. "As I said you need to keep your lance closer," she moved to his side. "Your brother has fought well. But unlike most of them," she nodded to two who were standing, "you lack the build that they have. You'll be thrown from your house before Ser Meryn's lance would have reached you," she teased as a few of them chuckled.

"I will keep that in mind," he nodded before smiling, "anything else."

She stepped closer. "Ser Meryn likes to slow his horse down just before you'd meet him. He likes to think that you'd give away your position when in reality it leaves a brief weakness open." The knight listened. "I saw your other brother is up against Ser Mandon Moore."

"Aye."

"Ser Mandon is highly skilled but his arrogance will be his downfall," Nysa explained with a small smile on her face. "I think your brother would be able to brace himself if he doesn't put all his weight onto his shield. And he should allow his horse to run at full speed. Your brother should not hold back."

"You have a dislike for the Kingsguard, don't you," he questioned.

"No," she smiled innocently. "I merely desire for others to win the tournament. It would be such a shame if only the Kingsguards were to win. There is glory enough to go around."

The knight smiled and reached for her hand. "Thank you, fair lady," he kissed her hand and smiled at her, "for thinking of me." Nysa blushed and quickly pulled back her hand.

"I wish you well," she replied.

Nysa exited the tent and made her way towards their own to see her brother preparing for his match. Jory turned to offer his hand to her. "I desire for my sister to accompany me into the field," he smiled.

She took his hand and climbed onto the horse behind him. She noted that Arya stood up and cheered as they entered. Nysa kissed Jory's cheek before climbing down. "Good luck, brother."

Nysa had just stepped onto the stairs when Septa Mordane nodded her head to the King and Queen, reminding her of her curtsies. She smiled at the two of them before doing just as she ought to. Surprisingly, the Queen smiled and addressed her.

"You look lovely today, Lady Nysa."

"Thank you, Your Grace," she smiled, completely shocked at the title of 'Lady' coming from the Queen. If the Queen was going to use her wits, then she thought she could as well. "I must confess that it is you who is far lovelier and the sight of radiance on this day."

The King began to laugh. "There is no need to flatter my wife. She knows how beautiful she is."

The Queen smiled again. "But it is pleasant to hear such compliments, my love. It is nice of you to join us," she turned her attention back to Nysa. "We had wondered where you had disappeared to?"

Whether the question was deceitful or not, Nysa was not sure. It appears the Queen knew the art of hiding behind her manners well. Nysa tried to calm herself before she answered. "I went to assist my brother as he fights in honor of Lord Stark, hand to King Robert Baratheon. We thank both you and the King for the honor," she curtsied again.

"The honor is all ours," Queen Cersei nodded to her.

Nysa released a breath she did not know she was holding in at how well her encounter on this day went with the Queen. She turned to sit by Arya and Sansa, only to have a hand appear in front of her.

She looked up to see Renly Baratheon smiling. "I will consider it an honor if you would sit with me, my Lady."

"I," she turned towards Septa Mordane but it was Sansa who answered her.

"Do not deny a Lord, Nysa," she urged.

It would seem as though Nysa was back in Sansa's good graces as well. She gave Arya an apologetic look before taking Lord Renly's hand. Renly smiled when Nysa sat down next to him. It was apparent though, from the outset, that he did it to infuriate the Queen. Nysa knew that Queen Cersei had only been nice since there were others present. She was reminded of her treatment as of late and was merely cautious around the Queen - even when her behavior was cordial. Renly Baratheon had spoken ill of the Queen during the latest small council meeting today - which surprised Nysa but made her smile. Sitting by him would of course, garner more displeasure from her. She did not want to bring reproach to Lord Stark but it was nice to let the Queen know that Nysa was making friends, regardless of what she spoke about her.

"Do not fret," Renly comforted her. "She will be on her best behavior today and so will the Prince," he whispered as she nodded to him.

The second Jory took off, Nysa was off her feet - forgetting about the Queen and being presentable. "Jory," she cheered for him. "Yes," she clapped as his opponent fell. She saw Lord Renly's face fall and it was obvious he wanted the opponent to win.

"Winner, Jory of House Cassel," the announcement was made.

Renly shook his head next to her.

"You cheered for the other," Nysa asked as she sat.

"He is cousin to my close friends, the Tyrells," Renly replied.

"I see," she smiled.

Renly chuckled before nudging her. "Go and see to your brother. And when you return, climb in through the side so you will not need to bow to her Grace again."

She nodded and went to leave only for the next jousters to appear. Like many of the riders before him, he waved to the crowds that cheered for him. Nysa barely paid any attention to the scenes of women who melted as the knights smiled or shamelessly winked at them. Whoever this knight was, circled around the crowds and then approached the front of the dais. She startled when the horse stopped in front of her.

"I would beg a favor from a Lady."

There stood the Frey knight she had spoken to earlier. She smiled and approached the front slowly. "I have nothing to give but the advice you received earlier."

"Who was this Harwin to you," he asked, "that I am to avenge him?"

"He is a guard for House Stark and fights under my brother who is his captain of the guards for Lord Stark," she gestured to Sansa and Arya as they eyed the knight.

"Nothing more," the knight again asked a question. She shook her head. "Then I shall not fear recompense if I should ask a Lady for a kiss?"

She could hear Sansa swooning behind her, Arya's groan of disgust as well as Septa Mordane's gasp of shock. Her eyes looked for her brother before walking closer to the railing. The knight leaned over and smiled. Her hand reached up to draw his face closer. Just as her lips were about to meet his, she turned and placed the kiss to his cheek. Smiling shyly, Nysa pulled away as she heard a few snickers.

"My brother would run you through with his sword if I gave you a real one," she answered, "and I rather you not die before you win your joust, good knight."

He smiled again as he gestured for her hand. "Then I will not disappoint you," he kissed her hand, "my Lady."

She went back to her seat, her hand shaking as Sansa gushed over the whole interaction and Septa Mordane applauded her discretion. Renly Baratheon cautioned her, stating that the knight was from House Frey.

"They are about a thousand of them living there in the Twins," Renly said.

"Surely not that much," Nysa replied.

Renly laughed. "Okay, maybe it is not that much but there are a lot of them. That old man there is their father, Lord Walder Frey," he nodded to a man she remembered seeing in the tent. Of course, he had been too busy groping a serving girl after scolding his son. "They say that Lord Frey is set to marry his eighth wife soon," he whispered the last part.

"Eighth," Nysa screeched as Renly quieted her down.

She stayed to see Ser Trant had been unhorsed by the Frey knight. She cheered happily before leaving quickly. She was not trying to avoid the knight, she merely wanted to see her brother before his next joust. Jory smiled at her as she entered the tent he shared with the other guards from Winterfell. Alyn had been there and preparing for his joust. She was not certain who he would be facing but wished him luck.

"I hear you kissed a knight," her brother said once Alyn had gone.

"He asked for a favor," she said with a blush.

Jory took her hands, having her pause as she worked. She looked up to see him with a gentle smile. "You have grown to a beautiful young woman, Nysa. You know of the marriage proposals that have come for your hand?"

"I do," she nodded as Jory's shoulders seemed to deflate. "You don't need to sound too displeased," she teased.

"In truth, I was hoping that there would be none," he replied as she playfully hit his shoulder. "I do not desire that you are wed to just anyone, sister," Jory said seriously. "I do not want to lose you."

"You need not worry on losing me to a Southern knight."

"Is that because your heart is in the North?"

Nysa didn't answer but turned to look away. "Were there any Houses you would not oppose," she asked thinking of Torrhen.

Jory smiled at her before placing a kiss on her cheek. "You know my answer to that already. I know we have spoke little of it but Torrhen Karstark did ask again about your hand and I informed him that it is not only up to me."

"I do not understand how there is so much fret about a lowly Northern girl to wed the third-born son of a Lord," she shrugged.

He could not help but chuckle at his sister. "That sounds like a high-born Southern Lady speaking and not the girl that I know who lived in the North," he teased before she relaxed. "I understand that it all seems tiresome. But believe me, Lord Stark and your Lord Uncle only wish to know that your future is a happy one. And because of that," he sighed, "do be careful with the knights here and the favors you would be handing out to all of them."

She hit his arm and he was glad that she was back in good spirits once again. He hated seeing her looking forlorn lately.

"I'm jesting with you, sister," he chuckled, "I know I will not have to defend your honor."

She smiled and looked down. Jory placed his hand under her chin and lifted it up.

"If your Uncle wishes for you to wed someone from the South," Jory began as Nysa shook her head, "if he does," he reminded her with a stern voice. "If he wants you to wed someone from here, make sure it is someone from a House that is far from the Capital. Do you understand?" Nysa nodded. "Get far away from the Lannisters as you can, sister."

"Yes, brother," she nodded again.

"Good," Jory smiled before pulling her out of the tent, "now show me the knight who asked for a kiss?"

"Jory," she moved her elbow to jab his ribs causing him to laugh. "You are horrible!" He continued to laugh as she shook her head. "And what if you should find some Lady here," his sister teased him. "Am I to scare her away with my bow or perhaps your dagger?"

Jory smiled and moved her so he could plant a kiss upon her brow. "I trust your judgement," he responded, "and like you, I don't know if I could stomach taking a bride from the South."

"I don't know," she shrugged, "we may find one who could stomach taking you as their husband."

They both laughed then as Jory walked them towards his horse. He was glad that his sister's mood was better than it had been lately. It was nice to jest with her, simply be brother and sister. It was pleasant not to worry about putting on false pretenses around the other guards, Lords and Ladies that were present. It was wonderful to just see her smile. Jory prayed that this journey would never take that away from her.

* * *

"You've been assisting my brothers and I throughout the entire tourney."

Nysa turned to see the Frey knight walking towards her.

"Even if one of us should fall," he motioned to his brothers who had lost the day before, "you are there to help tend to their wounds."

"You would think that here in King's Landing, they'd have proper nurses," she teased. "I must congratulate you on winning your third joust yesterday, good knight. I believe you beat out Ser Preston Greenfield to advance to today's competitions."

"Aye, you don't seem too happy?"

"He and Ser Barristan are the only members of the Kingsguard that I find respectable," she answered honestly. "And your brother defeated Ser Boros," her smiled widened, "that is an awful tale to tell."

"He lost his last joust to Ser Jamie though, something our father was not too pleased with."

"There is still a lot for your father to be proud of. You've made it this far in the tourney, something a lot of knights have not accomplished. He should be proud of that."

He smiled and leaned against the post, facing her. "Believe it or not, I was given good advice. Forgive, my lady but I seem to have forgot your name."

"Nysa," she smiled and then looked down, "Snow. My name is Nysa Snow."

He raised an eyebrow before taking her hand and lifting it up for a kiss. "Ser Perwyn Frey," he added before releasing her hand. "You sat on the dais with the King and Queen."

"And what would a bastard be doing there, you must be wondering," she replied.

Ser Perwyn chuckled. "I meant no offense."

"Of course, you didn't," she turned to look away.

"Truly, I did not," he touched her arm.

She nodded and gave him a smile to let him know it was forgiven. "Perhaps you are just shocked that the Queen seemed to find it in her good graces to associate herself with me."

"Quite true, she usually she is not as forgiving," he said in a soft tone with a smile. "So, what is your story then?"

Nysa took a breath before looking towards Jory who had just was preparing for his first joust of the day. "My brother and I serve House Stark," she began. "And Lord Eddard Stark is the Hand of the King. His daughter is betrothed to the Prince and one day I should become her lady-in-waiting," she turned back to Ser Perwyn. "I need no approval from this Queen," she gestured her head towards the dais.

He smirked and shook his head. "You are different from other women I have met."

"Have you met much bastard women?"

"I have, actually," he answered confidently. "I have several brothers and sisters who are of the same status. But what I meant is that you are different from other women in general." She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Meaning that you speak your mind and you have an eye for good fighting skills," he nodded towards the joust, "I like a strong woman."

"Then you will like the North," Nysa answered, "there are many women like that there, stronger than I," she smiled teasingly as he laughed.

"I think I'll go to the North one day," he replied.

"You should," she added as they both laughed.

"Or perhaps I'll wait until a Northern warrior lady comes to me," he tilted his head at her. "You know, one must wonder why you have been assisting my family," Ser Perwyn told her. "Perhaps you find us handsome," he jested as she smiled.

Nysa could see why Sansa was giddy all day. She turned away from the knight to hide her blush. "I merely dislike the Kingsguard gaining all the glory." She looked back at him to see him admiring her.

His hand reached out and brushed back a strand of her hair. "What advice do you have for me about this next one?"

"On that one, I cannot give," she answered.

"You cheer for the other man," he asked, pulling back his hand.

Nysa turned and smiled. "He is my brother," she told Ser Perwyn.

"Nysa?" Her head whipped around then to see Lord Stark calling for her. "I must see the King. I would ask that you tend to one of the knights that was injured."

"Yes, my Lord," she nodded before turning towards the knight. "I pray you have good fortune, Ser Perwyn. Until we meet again," she dipped into a curtsy and hurried after Lord Stark.

Following him, she noticed that her brother was correct. There were a few knights here who already had their arms around whatever maids had been passing. And a few whose arms were empty started to look her way. She best be careful of the next knight that she encountered. She followed Lord Stark towards the King's tent. They entered without calling out and to her shame, she was forced to look away. The King was getting dressed.

"It's made too small, your Grace. It won't go," she heard his squire explain.

She bit her bottom lip to stop the laugh from escaping her mouth.

"Your mother was a dumb whore with a fat ass, did you know that," the King barked.

The giggle flew from her mouth then and Lord Stark turned to smile at her. He shook his head and took a step forward as the King finally noticed their presence.

"Look at this idiot," the King nodded towards his squire as he removed the armor, "one ball and no brains. He can't even put on a man's armor properly."

Lord Stark nodded towards the King. "You're too fat for your armor."

Nysa's eyes widened, looking at Lord Stark in fear before turning towards the King. "Fat," King Robert said, "Fat? Is that how you speak to your King?"

"Your Grace, I'm sure," she took a step forward but stopped immediately when both the King and Lord Stark began to laugh. She smiled and looked away as the King's belly was exposed. In truth, he was too fat for his armor but it appears Lord Stark was the only one who could tell him. Looking up, her eyes landed on the squire who also couldn't help but chuckle at the King as well.

"Oh, it's funny, is it," the King turned to his squire.

The squire looked embarrassed and a bit fearful. Nysa immediately felt for the squire. "No, your Grace," he answered quickly.

"No," King Robert asked, "you don't like the Hand's joke?"

Lord Stark sighed, "leave the boy be, Robert."

"You heard the Hand! The King is too fat for his armor," he insisted.

"Your Grace," Nysa stepped forward again. He stopped and turned to her. "Perhaps your squire could help me look for more suitable armor for his Grace. I am off to tend to the injuries of another knight and would like someone to accompany me."

"Aye," he waved his squire off. "Go with Lady Nysa and find me the breastplate stretcher!"

"The breastplate stretcher," she asked in confusion causing Lord Stark to turn towards her and shake his head. "Why of course," she smiled. "That would be perfect for you, your Grace. Would you follow me," she turned towards the squire.

The squire hurried with her out of the tent. "Thank you, my Lady."

"There's no need to thank me," she turned to him. "And what is your name, good squire?"

"Lancel, my lady," he answered, "Lancel Lannister."

"Lannister," she felt eyes widen before she could turn away. "Tell me is the King truly set upon entering the joust?"

"I believe he is," Lancel replied, "and what a fine joust it would be. He could strike down any opponent he faces." Nysa had to fight back her laugh. Perhaps he could have done that when he was younger. She wondered about the son he had hiding in the Capital.

"But he is still too fat," she softly spoke with a gentle smile causing Lancel to smile as well. "You need not be truly afraid, good squire."

"One must not laugh at the King," he said.

"Of course," she nodded. "Now tell me Lancel, how did you come to be in the King's service?"

"The Queen told the King to bring me as his squire," he added.

She hooked her hand around his arm as they walked through the tents. "And who is your father?"

"My father is Kevan Lannister. He is a brave knight. I hope to become like him."

"My father was a knight too," she exclaimed with excitement, wondering if she was being overly dramatic. She dismissed the thought when she saw that it made the squire smile. "I know a boy back in the North who fell from a tower and does not have the use of his legs. He wanted to become a brave knight as well, even aspire to serve as a member of the Kingsguard. But he will never get that chance. You have a great opportunity to serve as squire and not just for anyone but for the King himself!"

"That's true," he nodded.

"And do not fret too much about the names that he calls you or your kin. Most squires receive such censure from the knights they serve," she nodded towards a squire who was being shouted at by a knight.

"Also true," he nodded.

"Well, here I must leave you," she said as she arrived at the tent she knew her brother was.

"But the breastplate stretcher," he protested, looking around.

"There is no such thing, good squire," she patted his hand. "But you could look around the grounds and enjoy yourself, away from the King," she whispered the last part and smiled. "In the meantime, you keep your head up, Lancel. You will cultivate patience that will help you in the future. And one day you'll be a good knight like your father."

He smiled and nodded. "So, I should just," he looked around.

"Have some fun," she pushed him lightly in a certain direction, "take your time going back. More than likely, Lord Stark will talk his Grace out of entering the tourney and you need not worry about putting on his armor."

She walked away from him then and into the tent where she knew the other knights had gathered. A gasp left her mouth as she spotted a few of the guards gathered together. Alyn looked up and beckoned her over. There in the middle of them, bruised and beaten was Jory. She hurried towards her brother, pushing the others on the side.

"What happened?"

"I am fine," Jory replied, "I lost my fifth joust but I survived."

"No one has made it that far and lived to tell the tale," Wyl patted him on the back as they chuckled.

"Who did you face," she asked.

"Ser Gregor," he looked at her.

Immediately her face paled. "The Mountain," she whispered, glancing at her brother's injuries. "I am glad that you survived as well," she threw her arms around her brother's neck before looking at his wounds.

"It is not as bad as the first knight he went across or the second or the third," Alyn continued.

"Do not joke about that," Nysa scolded, feeling angered that her brother could have been like the others who went against the Mountain.

"It is quite alright," Jory smiled and then motioned for her to come closer. She sat next to him. "Truly Nysa, I am well. A bit in pain but overall I am well," he assured her, before kissing her brow.

She had gone around assisting quite a few knights after making sure that her brother was indeed alright - questioning the nurses in the room again and again. A few of the knights and guards present shook his hand, congratulating him on making it so far. She was proud of him. If he had won, he would be moving on to the semi-final tilt. She found the Frey knights - minus Ser Perwyn - and received thanks from a Ser Danwell for her advice. Nysa had decided to go back towards the dais when another knight called her.

"Forgive me, if you were helping another," the knight said as he held out his arm.

"It is quite alright. Where are you injured," Nysa asked.

"Nowhere," he answered.

Nysa looked up to see him looking intently at her.

"I just wished to speak with you," the knight smiled kindly at her. "What is a maid like you doing here? Is there a knight that is to your fancy?"

"No, Ser," she pulled her hands away from his arm seeing that they needed no tending to.

"What is your name," he asked her. "That I may have a name to whisper upon the battlefield when I die?"

She thought it silly that he would say such a thing as that. But the more she thought about it, the more she began to realize that some Ladies - like Sansa - would most likely enjoy hearing words like those. She could not deny that there a small flicker of excitement that hearing she would be the last thought on the mind of a dying knight.

"Nysa," she answered, wondering what Wynafryd and Lyra would think of her now. "And yours?"

"Merlon, Ser Merlon Crakehall."

"None so fierce," she smiled.

"You know the words of my House?"

"I paid attention during my lessons," Nysa said as she went to stand.

"Will I see you at the feast tonight, my lady?"

"Perhaps, Ser," she curtsied before dashing out of the tent.

Nysa found her way towards the dais and was glad to see that Lord Stark was there, sitting by Sansa - instead of Lord Baelish. Though he was still close to her. She sighed and went to take her seat by Septa Mordane when another hand reached out.

"My Lady Snowflake," Lord Baelish smiled at her, "I would ask that you sit with me during the conclusion of the joust."

How she wanted to slap that smile off his face, she thought. She felt uneasy whenever he smiled the way he did. She still did not trust him nor did she like the way that he spoke about Lady Catelyn or his treatment of Lord Stark. Jory reminded her that it was not our place and that we ought to help Lord and Lady Stark in any way possible - and that would involve being on good terms with the ones that they trusted. She nodded towards him and went to sit down at his side.

"Who is next," she asked him to start off polite conversation.

"The match to decide all matches," he smiled, "We have Ser Loras Tyrell against," he motioned with his hand as Nysa turned to see the rider who had unhorsed her brother.

"Ser Gregor," she whispered.

"The Mountain is fierce," Lord Baelish commented as Nysa nodded.

She remembered the bruises on her brother's body, the knight who she tended to, as well as the other knights who had faced him. Ser Loras Tyrell came by then and gave a rose to Sansa. Despite sitting behind Sansa, Nysa knew that the girl sported a huge smile for the knight. He was exactly the type of knight that Sansa had read about in her stories. When he rode towards the front, Nysa turned towards Lord Baelish.

"I worry for Ser Loras."

"Do not let Renly hear you speak ill of his closest friend," Lord Baelish replied before turning around. "One hundred gold dragons on the Mountain," he stated.

Renly smiled. "I'll take that bet."

"Now what am I going to buy with a hundred gold dragons," he smiled at Nysa. "A lovely gown for the Lady Snowflake, barrels of Dornish wine," he looked over towards where Lord Stark sat, "and then perhaps still have enough left over for a girl from the pleasure houses of Lys because I would not want to dishonor Lady Snowflake," he took her hand and kissed it.

Nysa did her best not to snort. Petyr Baelish certainly knew the art of flirting - perhaps a bit better than the knight she met from House Crakehall. At the same time, it was good for her that Lady Catelyn, Lady Mariah Karstark, Lady Sybelle Glover and Lady Sarra Umber had taught her well about such things or she would be easily deceived as Sansa was.

"You could even buy a friend," Renly teased as Nysa began to laugh then.

Both riders took off at great speed. Ser Gregor was indeed fierce as they came. His horse pounded through the dirt. She winced and closed her eyes when their lances met. The crowd gasped around them as Ser Gregor fell off his horse. She heard Lord Renly's cheer behind her as well as Sansa's excitement.

"Such a shame, Littlefinger," Renly called out then, "it would have been nice for you to finally have a friend."

Nysa went to reach for Lord Baelish's hand, only for him to shake his head and smile. "Tell me Lord Renly, when will you be having your friend," he taunted. Nysa narrowed her eyebrows before turning back to see Renly uncomfortable. She watched Lord Baelish as he sat down. "It is wise to know people's weaknesses."

"I do not know what weakness it is that you speak of regarding Lord Renly but," Nysa smiled and looked down, "Lord Tyrion Lannister told me the same."

"You don't say," he turned to her.

Nysa nodded. "He said I would need them in King's Landing," she answered simply before looking at Ser Loras.

Lord Baelish leaned forward and touched Sansa's shoulder. "I was just about to tell Lady Snowflake here that Ser Loras knew that his mare was in heat," he looked back at Nysa, "quite crafty to use even a horse's weakness to his advantage."

"Ser Loras would never do that," Sansa snapped as Lord Stark turned to look at him. Lord Baelish looked back at the two of them and moved his hand. "There's no honor in tricks," Sansa finished.

"No honor," Lord Baelish nodded, "but quite a bit of gold."

"I suppose for Master of Coin it would be appealing to look for gold in all the right places," Nysa began, "even if it is in a dishonorable place." He stared at her evenly before she innocently turned towards the Grand Maester, hoping her conversation with Lord Baelish was done with. "Are you alright, Grand Maester," she patted his hand.

"Well, well, of course," he stuttered before coughing.

Ser Loras rode up towards the stands and bowed his head to the King as they all did. Sansa began clapping excitedly. Perhaps, Lord Stark could reconsider Sansa's betrothal to the Prince and wed her to someone gentler like Ser Loras. She smiled at the thought and decided to speak to Jory on the matter when she saw him. Perhaps Lord Stark would listen to him. And as of right now, she was sure that Joffrey and Sansa were still at odds with one another. It was then that her smile dropped as she saw the Mountain take out his sword and cut off his horse's head.

"No," she reached for the nearest person to her which happened to be Lord Baelish.

Everyone gasped as the Mountain charged forth towards Ser Loras. Sansa stood as well when Ser Gregor began to beat away at Ser Loras. He was on the ground, holding his shield in front of him when the Hound hurried from behind them and through his sword to protect Ser Loras. The two brothers began to exchange hits. Ser Barristan Selmy stood up and had his sword at the ready. A few other guards got up just in case the fighting got out of hand, including a few of the guards from House Stark.

"Stop this madness in the name of your King," King Robert shouted as Ser Gregor took one last swing at the Hound. The Hound knelt on the ground as Ser Gregor furiously marched away. The Kingsguard and a few others went to stand before him. "Let him go," the King shouted as Ser Gregor pushed him way through the crowd.

Nysa gripped her chest with her hand when she saw Ser Loras stand, knowing full well that that could have been her brother.

* * *

"My Lady," a knight bowed before her, "it would be my honor if you'd dance the next with me."

"Of course, Ser Preston," the girl smiled and accepted his hand graciously.

The Queen watched as the bastard from the North danced with knight after knight. Not only did Robert demand there be a tourney in honor of the Hand but there was also a feast to be held in honor of the winning victor. And at the feast, it had seen that the bastard was a favorite dance partner among the many knights here. She had danced first with a Frey knight before Cersei had snorted and stared heavily as one of Lord Crakehall's sons had been the next to dance with her. Of all the absurd things for a knight from the Westerlands to do - dancing with a bastard girl from the North! Her brother 'rescued' her after Ser Merlon had subjected her to quite a few dances, though Cersei knew that it was the knight who should have been rescued from the shame of dancing with her. She was pretty but not pretty enough to have so many knights fawning over her. How ridiculous could they get? And now she was dancing with a member of the Kingsguard.

She saw that the girl had talked one of the other knights there into dancing with the young Sansa Stark. Cersei encouraged Joffrey to attend to Sansa and treat her kindly. They had been here for weeks now and still his son refused to do so, threatening to burn the North. She did not like the fact that all these men had forgotten themselves, feeling the need to pay attention to a girl of low-birth and status just because she tended to their wounds and offered advice. Ser Barristan had even remarked on her kind and respectful manners.

 _"We thank both you and the King for the honor,"_ the girl said pleasantly with a sickeningly adorable smile and modest curtsy.

Her hand reached out to pick up her cup and she caught the young woman by her, smiling. She sighed before sipping quickly. Yes, she was talking to one of her Lannister cousins - though she admittedly forgot the name. "Forgive me, my mind had wandered."

"It is quite alright, your Grace," the young woman said.

"What is your name again," she questioned before sitting back in her chair.

"Lanna, your Grace," she replied as Cersei nodded before turning back to the crowd. "And we were discussing my upcoming marriage to Lord Jast."

"It will be a beautiful one, I'm sure. And you will make a wonderful bride," Cersei said glancing at her kin, "and we Lannister women make the best brides, remember that."

"Of course," Lanna nodded and smiled.

"Did your brother participate in the tourney this week?"

Lanna's smile widened. "Aye, he did. He lost to Ser Gregor. He would have died the same as Ser Hugh if not for the young lady he is trying to steal from Ser Preston."

Before she could control her reaction, Cersei's cup slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. Immediately serving maids came to clean up the mess and hand her a new cup of wine. She sipped at it greedily before looking at her cousin. The girl looked frightened for a moment before smiling softly at her.

"I meant to say that no true harm came to my brother, if that is what is alarming you. He did have a piece of wood lodged in his side but it was small and this morning he claimed to be all better," Lanna explained quickly as Cersei shot her head towards the bastard girl who still had her arm entwined with Ser Preston - but both were laughing and conversing with the young man she knew as Ser Lucion Lannister.

It was at that exact moment as Cersei watched the girl that she knew she'd have to learn more about just who this bastard was. She had spoke Lord Stark. She had met with Sansa. It was time to learn about this Nysa Snow.

* * *

 _I don't really like it here._

Nysa's letter to Robb began. Grey Wind whined a little before coming to rest at Robb's feet. "We don't really like it here, either," Robb patted Grey Wind's head before looking up, "not since you left." He sighed before turning back to the parchment.

 _That is probably a gentle way of putting it. I miss the cold - believe it or not. The weather may be warm but the people here are the opposite. I miss walking through the godswood in the early evening. I miss watching the Keep light up in the morning. I miss everyone, even Theon. Do not tell him that or he will think me in love with him._

Robb could not help but chuckle and shake his head.

 _Tell Bran that I miss him and stress the importance of how I would appreciate a letter from him, your sisters would enjoy it as well. We have many a tales to tell him. I cannot imagine what he is going through now or what Rickon is going through._

He closed his eyes and looked away. It was obvious that she knew that his mother was no longer in Winterfell. He wondered if his mother had seen Nysa. Had she spoken to her? He hoped she told Nysa that he would not be writing to her for fear of the danger they were in.

 _I hope that this letter finds you all well. Do not burden yourself with many worries, Robb. I know that whatever it is, you'll be able to get through it._

"Nysa," he whispered as his finger traced her name on the bottom of her letter.

He thought of her long, dark hair blowing in the cool breeze as they took those walks in the godswood before sup. How she would laugh and smile up at him, it made everything inside him feel warm. He thought of the jokes they'd tell. The way her eyes lit up when she'd smile or how her nose scrunched up when it was an improper joke Theon would share with them. His mind wandered to the time when he saw her carrying Calon - a guard's son whom she had helped to deliver. She looked like a mother and the way the babe cooed at her, it made him desire something he knew he ought not to have with her.

Robb wanted to defy his mother then and write back to Nysa, letting her know that he wanted her to come back home to him. He wanted to write to his father, saying to deny her Lord Uncle and send Nysa home to Winterfell. It just wasn't fair, not at all.

"Excuse me, my Lord."

Robb turned to see Maester Luwin approaching with a frustrated looking Rickon. He nodded to the Maester before he departed, leaving Robb there with his youngest brother. Nysa had always been good at settling him down. The first few days he tried to do the same things she did and for a time it worked. But Rickon was getting restless. He wanted their mother. He asked about their father. He complained that there was no Arya or Nysa - and even that there was no Sansa. When he took Rickon to the Sept - because he wanted to pray the same way mum did - he prayed that Jon would return because it seemed that Robb was no longer fun to play with.

 _"Bring Jon back so that Robb will be fun again_ ," he remembered Rickon mumbling. It was bad timing. Jon left the same day that father left - the same day that Robb would have to step up and take over duties of being Lord of Winterfell. To Rickon it appeared that Robb doing the duties of Lordship meant he was no longer fun. And in truth, Robb prayed for the same as well, only he wanted them all to come back.

"Come here," Robb called Rickon over. "What is it," he asked as Rickon sat on the rock next to him.

"I don't want to write or draw anymore," he hung his head down and kicked the dirt. "I want to play with Bran."

Robb sighed and looked out into the godswood. "I want you to play with him too. But we have to understand that Bran is still not well."

"When will he be well?"

"When everyone comes back home," Robb answered.

"But they're not coming back," Rickon threw a small stick a few feet in front of them.

"They are," Robb replied, "in fact, I have a letter from Nysa right here," he gestured to it, "telling me that she misses home. She misses all of us, even you."

"She does," he cheered up about that.

"She does," Robb nodded. "And she wondered why is it that you have not sent a letter to her," he looked at his younger brother to see a small glimpse of guilt enter his eyes. "Even Arya and Sansa are thinking about why you have not written to them."

Rickon looked away as his face twisted with concentration. Robb knew he wasn't truly defying his mother's orders. She said that _he_ was not to write to Nysa. She did not say anything about Bran or Rickon. And a letter from a child would be such an innocent thing. He'd make sure that he end up writing a small phrase on there for Nysa, somewhere in the letter.

"Can I send them a drawing," Rickon asked turning to face his eldest brother.

"Of course," Robb smiled.

The both went to see Bran and had helped to maneuver him into a suitable sitting position at a table where both wrote their letters to the girls at King's Landing. Robb watched as Bran wrote about his riding device and how he was glad to be out and about. The Maester had said that Bran could use a short bow to practice his archery. Bran told Arya to be prepared for the next time they met.

"I'd best her then," Bran looked to Robb with a smile.

"Of course you would," Robb returned the smile.

He read the letter over and noted that it was full of a child's innocence. He then turned to Rickon who was holding up a drawing of Winterfell. Of course, on the drawing there were figures of everyone there. Rickon pointed out who was who in the picture and asked if the girls would like it.

"They'd love it," he put his hand on his brother's head and ruffled his hair. "Why don't you write down your name on it?"

He nodded eagerly and turned to the drawing. "R," Rickon began to write, "is for Robb," he looked up and smiled, "my oldest brother."

Robb nodded. "That's right."

"I is for Ice," Rickon went back to writing his name. "That is my father's sword." Robb watched as Rickon's hands went to write the next letter. "C is for Catelyn, the name of my mother. K is for keep, that is where I sleep."

"That is a pretty smart way of remembering your name. Who helped you with that," Robb moved a chair over so he could see better.

"Nysa taught me," Rickson smiled and scooted closer to Robb. "She always comes up with fun games like that."

Robb smiled. "She does. Now show me the rest," he gestured towards the paper but Rickon shook his head. "What is it?"

"That is as far as we got before she left. She told me that mum would help me but," Rickon's voice got soft and sad. Robb placed a hand over his small shoulders and rubbed them gently. "I miss mum."

"I know Rickon," Robb replied. "Why don't I help you with the rest? You have two more letters to learn." Rickon nodded and put his hand down to the parchment. "O is for old," he tickled Rickon, causing him to laugh. He smiled when he saw Bran laughing with them. "It looks just like this," he helped Rickon move his hand, "do you know that here in the North, people say that we believe in the old gods and that our way is the old way," he explained as he saw both boys giving him their full attention.

"In the South, they worship the Seven," Bran added, "like mother does."

"That's right," Robb smiled as he gestured for Rickon to make the letter on his own. "There are some in the South that think because our way is the old way that it isn't the right way, you understand?" They both nodded. "But look at father," he leaned his head to Rickon and put his arm around him. "Father follows the old ways, believes in the old gods. He treats everyone with respect. He knows what is right and just. He is honorable to those under his lordship. He protects us, loves us. The old ways are what makes Father a wonderful husband and father, a kind and merciful Lord and a great man."

"I want to be like father," Rickon replied before looking at his letter. "O is old ways, the ways of my father," he turned back to Robb who nodded to him.

"Father would be proud," he smiled. "Of both of you," he added while glancing at Bran who nodded as well.

Robb realized that this was something his father should be doing. And with that, he recalled to mind a day his father had taken both he and Jon for a ride. It was time to tell Bran and Rickon everything his father told him.

"Now the last letter," he said as Rickon hurried to get ready. "N," Robb paused and looked over at Bran. "N is for North, where you are from, where we are from." Rickon looked back up at him. "The North is harsh and cold. It can be unkind to anyone. But if you can survive here, then you can survive anywhere. No one else knows the cold like we do. No one understands the rough land, the dangerous woods or the horrors beyond the Wall. We were made to overcome such obstacles, to endure such hardships," he nodded to Bran. "The people here are honorable and loyal. We fiercely protect what is ours. We always lend a hand to a fellow northmen in trouble." He looked both brothers in their eyes, "and we love our family twice as hard."

Robb paused to let that all sink in and saw that Bran sported a look of pride.

"Now," he cleared his throat, "where are we from?"

"The North," they both answered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was late at night when Nysa woke to the pounding sound on her door. She rubbed her eyes before looking about the room, realizing that the candle and fire had gone out sometime ago. There was just a soft red glow that remained.

"Nysa," the pounding continued. It was Jory.

"Come in," she shouted as he flew the door open and more than just her brother entered. It was then that she reached for her dress that was lying at the edge of the bed and slipped it on quickly. She still had on her nightgown. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Have you seen Arya," Jory asked as one of the guards went to stoke the fire.

"I saw her when we broke our fast," Nysa said slowly. "She was heading to her dancing lessons and was eating her meal quickly. I remember scolding her about it," she blinked her eyes as the fire lit the room. She looked around to see there were six other guards in there besides her brother. "What happened? Why such the large party? Did she truly stick her sword into Prince Joffrey this time?"

A few of the men chuckled but Jory stared at her with a reprimanding look.

"I did not mean it as a joke. You and I both know that Arya is intent on hurting the boy after what happened. The last time a large party like this," she gestured to the guards in the room, "looked for Arya was because she had attacked the Prince."

"She was missing at sup. Septa thought she was with you."

"I ate my sup with you," she replied.

"I know," Jory nodded before walking over to where he knew she kept the dagger he gave her, "but Lord Stark thought she might have been with us as well. He did not question it until he went to her room just now," he handed her the dagger. "I don't know what trouble the little lady is in but we best be prepared for whatever it is."

Nysa nodded before taking the dagger and slipping it under her dress, strapping it to her thigh. She then walked over to where her dresses were hanging and pulled out Torrhen's bow. She may have to use the dagger but she enjoyed having the bow. Nysa looked down at the bow, studying the wood and enjoying the smooth designs Torrhen had carved on it. Her thumb ran across a design that did not match the rest and when she moved her hand to look at it, she was immediately taken to a memory.

* * *

 _Flashback_

"Alright, let us begin. Stance, notch, pull," Torrhen instructed Nysa. "Aim and..."

Before he could finish, Nysa released the arrow. It flew through the air and landed near the center. She did the same quickly and hit the second target which was farther away. That arrow landed near center as well. The third and final one, she notched and released quickly. A part of her was hoping that it would hit near center again. And it did.

Torrhen smiled proudly at her progress. She jumped excitedly before skipping to where Harrion Karstark, Lord Rickard's eldest son, sat. "I made it. As you see, I've been practicing."

"That you did," Harrion nodded as the others chuckled. "But the man is not dead."

"I don't understand," she looked confused. "I hit all three, near center. And I did it quick, too!"

"That barely wounded your victim if it did not hit the center," he gestured to the target. "And you went too quickly through that. You were overconfident. Sometimes that will cost you."

"How could..." Nysa was thrown from her feet. She landed with a hard thump on her back and looked up to see Eddard Karstark, the second son, smiling.

He nodded to one of their guards who threw a small pouch in the air. They had been making bets about who would be able to trip her up all day.

"Your Uncle said that you had grown quicker on your feet. And yet here you lay," Eddard teased as he reached into the pouch and threw some coins at his brother.

"Rude," Nysa whipped the bow around to hit Eddard's side as she stood. They only chuckled at her weak attempt. "And the two of you cheated!"

"How did we cheat," Harrion asked.

"You distracted me."

"Ah," Torrhen came to stand by her. "You see Nysa, sometimes you won't always have the quiet calm to help you focus," he smiled. "Sometimes you'll have to deal with inconsiderate soldiers," he nodded to the Karstark guards as they laughed and shook their heads. "Always remember to keep an eye out for anything and anyone around you," he gestured. "Feel it in here," he pointed her chest, "let the feeling take over. Hear things you are not supposed to hear, smell the air, taste your environment," he explained as Nysa did her best to follow his instructions.

She shut out everything else that was happening, the guards who were laughing and taking bets. Harrion who was singing some jolly song that she no doubt would have gotten caught up in. She even tried not to think of what happened at the Dreadfort. Focusing on the air, the ground, that sixth sense Torrhen was helping to describe made her feel like a huntress.

"You got it," Torrhen asked.

Nysa smiled, notched an arrow, turned around and let it fly. The arrow spun right pass two Karstark soldiers and hit the coin pouch that Eddard was throwing up in the air. There was a moment of silence as everyone looked to the stable where the arrow hit, holding the pouch. Nysa felt a small jolt of adrenaline rush through her. The two guards who were blocking the way turned around in surprise. Eddard stood and looked at the pouch, hanging on the stable wall with the arrow stuck to it. He glanced back at Nysa who gave him a small curtsy.

"I got it," she replied as the entire yard broke out into more laughter.

Eddard took the arrow out, walked over and handed her the leather pouch. "You're right. You've earned it," he smirked at her as she smiled. The guards began to cheer as Eddard went to grab a small piece of wood. "Now, get ready for this one," he told her as he threw it in the air.

Nysa notched the next arrow and took aim. She didn't stick the arrow. But she was able to tip the wood with her arrow. Torrhen wrapped her up in his arms and spun her around, cheering wildly.

"I knew you could do it," he set her on the ground and smiled down at her.

"See," Nysa smiled at Torrhen, "you were able to teach me. That means you can instruct the men of Karhold one day," her hands came to rest on his chest. "You may not become Karhold's Lord like Harrion or command the men like Eddard but you can still bring pride to your father and House Karstark," she whispered about a fear he had confided in her when they first met.

Her eyes stared back up at him. Torrhen's arms were still around Nysa's waist, holding her body close. And before she knew it, Torrhen leaned his head down to rest in the crook of her neck. Nysa's sharp intake of breath was mixed with a slight purr and she wondered why she suddenly felt so out of control.

"I'm truly glad Lord Stark sent you to Karhold those years ago," he whispered against her flesh.

When he finally pulled back, still holding on to her, she heard no one talking in the yard. The only thing she could hear - and feel - was her heart hammering in her chest. He looked happy just to be there with her. He ran his fingertips along her face.

"May we practice tomorrow, before I leave," she blurted out.

"Anything you wish," he told her before daring to press a kiss to her forehead.

Nysa's eyes fluttered closed and she sighed. She did not know what it was that she was feeling right now. She enjoyed Torrhen's company. She feared that she was becoming like the maids she heard Septa Mordane talk about - the ones who would forget their chasteness and allow desire to fill them. Was this what she felt - desire? She knew not, only that she did not want it to end.

"Is that a bear," someone shouted.

"Where," Torrhen began to take out his sword only to have Harrion come by and slap his youngest brother's back. "You damn oaf!"

Harrion pushed him back lightly before turning towards Nysa. "You best get inside and help my mother get Alys ready for sup."

"Of course," Nysa blushed and hurried out of the yard.

* * *

She was thirteen then - the same age as Sansa. That was one of the happier visits she had at Karhold. She looked down at the bow again to see that Torrhen had carved her name inside at the top. You'd truly have to know the bow to know that it was something he had added. The wood had been died there, the color of amber - a yellowish-brown that stood in contrast to the dark reddish wood.

 _"You still remember what I taught you?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"Take this with you, use it if you have to. It will be as though a part of me were with you."_

"Whose bow is that, my lady," asked Wyl.

"Torrhen Karstark's," Nysa answered before slinging it over her shoulder. Jory looked at her. "I know. You want me to carry the dagger. And I will, but I will also carry Torrhen's bow with me."

"The Queen might not like that," her brother told her.

"If I did everything that the Queen wanted me to do then I wouldn't be here now, would I," Nysa said as she walked out of her room. Jory ordered a few guards to follow her. A few guards turned into a dozen. "I think we should talk to the Kingsguard," she announced as they went towards the Keep.

"They may think we are there for other reasons," Desmond told her.

"No, they won't," she shook her head.

A few of the guards directed her towards Ser Barristan. She noticed how there were only four Kingsguards present. Usually there were seven of them, she noted. Ser Jamie was among those who was missing. Come to think about it, she rarely saw him guarding the King.

"What can I do for you, my lady," Ser Barristan asked.

"I have come to ask permission for Lord Stark's guards and I to search for his daughter," Nysa stated.

"Search," the knight questioned.

"You do the task so heavily guarded," Ser Boros nodded towards the men behind her, "and with so many weapons," he reached out his hand and touched her bow.

Nysa flinched back and looked at Ser Barristan. "Lord Stark's daughter Arya is missing, has been since yesterday morning. That was the last time anyone saw her. Now, this happened on the kingsroad. She had run away because she did something terrible to Prince Joffrey," Nysa began spinning her tale, "she was frightened. Any child who breaks the rules would not want to face their parents. I'm not saying that the same as happened now..."

"It hasn't," Ser Preston spoke up. "The Prince is with his mother right now and looks perfectly well."

She nodded and smiled. "Thank the Gods he is safe from her, then." It got a few chuckles from Ser Barristan and Ser Preston but Nysa noticed that Ser Meryn and Ser Boros did not laugh at all. "With your permission, Lord Commander, do the men and I have leave to search the Keep for her?"

"Aye," Ser Barristan granted it, "without our interference of course," he gestured for Ser Meryn to step back from Nysa.

"Thank you, Ser Barristan. And if you should hear of Arya's presence..."

"Then we will inform you," Ser Preston answered instead.

They searched the entire Keep, looking for Arya, but came up empty-handed. There was talk of asking the Queen and the Prince to search their rooms but Porther told Nysa that would be unwise. Lord Varys spotted them and inquired as to why there was some sort of military presence on the grounds. A few of the men appeared uncomfortable with his presence so Nysa answered him the best that she could without giving too much away. To her surprise, he already knew what they were looking for and suggested that perhaps she left the castle's walls.

She wanted to do exactly that. When she returned to the Hand's tower to inform Lord Stark, he sent Wyl outside instead, instructing him to look over every street and alley. Jory was ordered by Lord Stark to rest and Nysa was forbidden to venture out, despite protesting that she could handle it. She sat in one of the gardens, pouting now.

"Lady Nysa."

Nysa turned as Ser Preston approached her. She stood and gave him a small smile and curtsy. "Ser Preston, to what do I owe this honor?"

He smiled and held his arm out for her. "I understand that Lord Stark's daughter still has not been found."

"No," Nysa sighed, "she has not and I have been relieved of my services in searching for her," she said causing him to chuckle.

"I think it possible that she may have made it outside the castle."

"I think so too but Lord Stark sent the guards without me," she groaned slightly in displeasure. "I have Torrhen's bow and my brother's dagger. I know how to use them. I don't know why I'm still being held back."

Ser Preston stopped then and turned to look at her. "Who is Torrhen? Is he one of the guards from House Stark?"

She shook her head. "He is from House Karstark in the North," she smiled.

"Your betrothed?"

Nysa blushed and looked down. "He wrote a letter to my brother asking for my hand but I have to get permission from my Lord Uncle," she answered.

"Why not your brother answer for you," he questioned.

"He does but my mother's brother has the final say. It seems weird but I think that my mother is all that my Uncle had left, therefore making me all that he has left. Jon - Lord Stark's son - thinks that my Uncle has no children and might want me to inherit his lands."

"From Dorne," he looked intently at her, taking a step forward.

She shrugged her shoulders. "No one will tell me which House. My father met my mother during the war and," she paused and let her face drop into a frown, "when our father passed, my brother said he wanted to take me back home. He did not care that I was his half-sister. I was told that my mother was a Lady," she smiled then and looked at Ser Preston, "and apparently, my Lord Uncle - whom I've never met - has a say in the matters of my future. That is a special circumstance if you ask me. I came with Lord Stark to meet him and gain his approval."

The knight tilted his head at her and reached out to touch her cheek. "Well, I hope you meet your Uncle soon."

"Thank you," she smiled.

He continued leading them towards the stables and Nysa wondered why that was. He called for a young stable-hand to bring out a young mare. "Take her with you," Ser Preston instructed.

"Fine knight," Nysa began but he waved her off.

"You can look for the young lady better this way," he placed his hands low so she could climb up. Nysa did as was suggested and mounted the horse with the help of Ser Preston. "Keep the mare until you find the girl," he ran his hand down the horse's neck. "When I hear that you've found her, I'll go to the tower to bring her back. You may not be able to leave the castle's walls but this will be safer."

"Thank you, fine knight," she nodded before he led the horse out for her and hit the backside of it, sending her on her way.

The sun was high up in the sky when Nysa had taken her second ride around the grounds. She stayed by a couple gates that exited into the City before venturing off. She covered ground faster than usual since she was on a horse. The mare was beautiful and obedient as well. Nysa felt like a Lady then as she rode around on one of the royal horses.

When she was just about to retreat to the Tower, she heard some shouting at the gate that she had just left. She paused and kicked her horse to where she heard the commotion and sure enough, there stood Arya Stark demanding to be let in.

"My father is Hand of the King," she stated. "I'm not a boy. I'm Arya Stark of Winterfell." Nysa hid her smile as she rode closer towards them. "If you lay a hand on me my father will have both of your heads on a spike. Now are you going to let me by or do I have to smack you on the ears to help you with your hearing?"

Nysa's horse trotted nearer then. "There will be no need for that, Arya."

"Nysa," Arya exclaimed with a bright smile, "I'm so glad to see you!"

"Don't look too happy," she shook her head as Arya's smile dropped. "My brother just came back this morning and said he could not find you. Wyl and Harwin led another dozen guards out into the City. Last I heard, they were going to Flea Bottom to look for you."

"I know but..."

Nysa shook her head as she stopped her horse by Arya. "You best save it for your father," she reached out her hand for Arya.

"Let me help you, my..."

Arya turned to the guard. "Now you want to help me," she scolded him. "Never mind! You just stay right there!"

"Arya," Nysa reprimanded her.

"They called me a boy," she turned to Nysa. "They said they were going to smack my ears!"

Nysa looked to see that one of them looked visibly afraid while the other appeared to be slightly embarrassed. "I'm sure that the guards meant no harm, especially towards the daughter of Lord Stark," she gestured to Arya and they both agreed. "Thank you, brave guardsmen. Could you please inform Ser Preston that I have found Lady Arya should he come this way," she asked of them as Arya climbed onto the horse in the back of Nysa.

"Father had the Kingsguard looking for me, too," Arya groaned.

"You were missing since yesterday morning. That was something I had done." She pulled the horse slowly away before whispering, "I wasn't sure if you had harmed Prince Joffrey again."

"I don't have my sword with me," Arya smiled.

Nysa urged the horse to hurry back then. She chastised Arya one more time when they arrived at the Hand's tower. Arya's clothes were dusty and Nysa was sure that she had not ate any food the previous night. A bath and then perhaps a light meal would do her some good before she sent Arya to Lord Stark's solar.

"I do not need a bath."

"Arya, you're dirty."

"But I must speak to my father, it's important," Arya insisted.

"He is really upset that you were lost yesterday couldn't you..."

Jory appeared in front of them in that moment and turned to look Arya over. "What are you two discussing?"

"Nysa wants me to take a bath."

"You're dirty."

"But surely I could speak to my father first."

"Where were you," Jory questioned.

"She was at the gate trying to get back in. Two guards were giving her a hard time," Nysa answered. "She keeps saying that she heard something important in the dungeons, about her father."

Jory nodded before looking towards the opposite end of the hall. "Something is happening or something did happen," he noted. "I can feel it and somehow Lord Stark has walked right into the middle of it." He glanced at Arya again. "A bath can wait. Go and speak to your father."

Arya tried to bite back the smile at having got her way. But when she entered the room, it quickly disappeared. Nysa heard Lord Stark scold Arya before the door finally closed. She sighed and opened her mouth to tell her brother something.

"Jory!"

Both their heads turned to see that Wyl had appeared with Heward, Desmond, Cayn and Harwin. Behind them stood a member of the Night's Watch. Immediately Nysa stood straight, thinking that he was bringing news of Jon. Did something happen to him? Or maybe there was news of Benjen? The last she heard from Jon was that his Uncle Benjen had left to go ranging and he was helping to train the other recruits that were there.

"Jory, this is Yoren from the Night's Watch," announced Heward.

"A member of the Night's Watch is always welcomed by House Stark," Jory nodded to him. "But what brings you so far South?"

"Is it Jon," Nysa took a step forward, shouting, "is he hurt?"

The man looked at her before turning to Jory and lifting an eyebrow at him. "My sister," Jory nodded, "Lady Nysa. She grew up with Lord Stark's children and is close friends with his sons, Robb and Jon. Jon recently took up the black."

"Ah, I believe I've seen the lad, the bastard of Winterfell," the Night's Watchmen said as Nysa narrowed her eyes at him. "Good fighter that one," he said before snorting, "the others, sorry for my language," he nodded to Nysa. "A lot of shit they're good for. Pathetic, the fucking lot of 'um. I've come here to get more men, what with Winter coming - as those Starks say - the Wall needs 'um."

Nysa smiled. "Jon wrote about that," she nodded.

The man smiled crookedly before turning back to her brother. "I've come to ask for more men and to," he cleared his throat, "speak of a rather disturbing matter to Lord Stark."

"He's speaking to his daughter right now," Jory replied.

"It's rather important."

Why did everyone have something important to say to Lord Stark? There was a sense of dread that came down on Nysa. Maybe it was about Lord Stark's brother. She wanted to ask but didn't get a chance to. Her brother nodded before knocking on the door and then opening it.

"Pardon my Lord," Jory walked in. "There's a Night's Watchmen here, begging a word. He said it's urgent."

Nysa bit her lip and looked down. The watchmen stepped towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "The boy is alright. What I say is important to the rest of House Stark." She nodded and watched as he walked in the room after Jory.

She strained her ears to listen in and laughed when she heard Arya shout: "I'm a girl."

"Wouldn't be the first time today," she smiled.

"You know better than to listen," Heward chuckled and shook his head.

She smiled at all of them before they left to either rest or get something to eat. They had been searching for Arya all morning, she could only guess that must have worked up an appetite. Turning back towards the room, she heard the same thing that the watchmen said earlier about looking for new recruits. Then when she heard Benjen's name she took a step closer to the door.

"The whole City will know by tomorrow," he said.

"Know what," Lord Stark asked.

The watchmen turned and looked to see Nysa peering through the door. "Best said in private, my Lord."

Lord Stark nodded before saying something to Arya and then he looked up at her. "Nysa, take care of Arya. See that she's fed and cleaned." Nysa nodded. "And Jory, make sure they don't leave the Tower."

Nysa looked towards her brother and he had a serious expression on. Jory was right. Something did happen and Lord Stark was now in the middle of it. She held her hand out for Arya and began leading her towards her room. Arya looked back one last time at the watchmen before following the two siblings.

"How many guards does my father have," Arya asked.

"Here in King's Landing," Jory began, "fifty."

"You wouldn't let anyone kill him, would you," she questioned.

Jory smiled. "No, I wouldn't. And neither will my sister," he pointed to her, "she's even taken to carrying around a bow."

"Torrhen Karstark has taught me well and I remember teaching you," Nysa added, "we'll be safe, Arya. Whatever it is that has you frightened, we'll get through it." Arya nodded. "Now, I believe Harwin said something about there being lemon cakes in the kitchen." Arya brightened.

"Lord Stark said..."

Nysa looked at her brother. "Lord Stark said to stay in the tower. We will be in the tower, just down at the kitchen."

"Nysa," Jory scolded as she took Arya's hand and they began running away from him.

It was the best way to distract Arya right now. In a lot ways, she was just like Jon. The best thing to get Jon's mind off troublesome thoughts was to go outside the walls of Winterfell. Arya was the same. She didn't like the confines of walls. No, she wanted to be free.

* * *

"Is it because I'm fat? I like girls just as much as you do," Sam told Jon. "They might not like me as much but," Sam paused and then uncomfortably admitted, "I've never been with one."

Jon still washing his table looked over at Sam. They were talking about the other brothers who were rumored to go to Mole's Town and visit the brothel there.

"You've probably had hundreds," Sam added.

He sighed and for some reason thought of Nysa then. "No," he answered.

"No," the shock registered on Sam's face.

"The same as you," Jon stopped.

Sam chuckled. "I find that very hard to believe."

He furrowed his brow and remembered the time they had all gone to the brothel close to Winterfell. Theon had insisted that he take Robb there for his name-day. It would help cure whatever was ailing him when he thought of Nysa. Robb insisted that Jon come along with them.

"I came very close once," he recalled that night. "I was alone in the room with a naked girl."

"Didn't know where to put it," Sam teased.

"I know where to put it," Jon bit back, remembering Theon had told him the same thing.

"Was she old and ugly?"

"Young and gorgeous," he sat down, "a whore named Ros."

"What color hair?"

"Red," Jon answered with a deep frown on his face. He did not know why but he had liked the red hair. He liked that it looked like fire. It stood out in contrast to everything else in the North - which was white like Snow.

"I like red hair," Sam commented before moving his hands, "and her," he smiled.

Jon smiled too. "You don't want to know."

"Oh," Sam chuckled. "So why did you not, you know, make love to Ros with the perfect," he moved his hands towards his chest again.

"What's my name?"

"Jon Snow."

"And why is my surname Snow?"

"Because you're a bastard from the North," Sam answered.

"I've never met my mother. My father wouldn't even tell me her name. I don't know if she's living or dead. I don't know if she's a noble woman or fishermen's wife," he paused and turned to Sam, "or a whore." He sighed and remembered Nysa again. "So, I was up there in the brothel as Ros took off her clothes. But I couldn't do it because all I could think was, what if I got her pregnant. If she had a child, another bastard name 'Snow'," he turned to Sam, "it's not a good life for a child."

Jon went back to scrubbing the table.

"So, you didn't know where to put it," Sam said before smiling.

Jon threw the scrubber at Sam before running around the table to dunk the pale over him. Sam and Jon were laughing before they finally decided to go back to work.

"So, that girl who sends you letters," Sam began as they put away their buckets, "you've never thought of her like that?"

Jon snorted. "She's a 'Snow', the same as me. She is like my sister. She'd always say that we are the same, her and I. We both don't know who our mothers are. Though, her mother is from the South and she has a Lord Uncle who sends her gifts. Even among bastards, there's a difference. My brother loves her."

Sam looked intrigued.

"But he can't wed her because she's a bastard and he's heir to Winterfell."

"But you could have wed her," Sam pressed.

"What are you trying to say, Sam?"

"The both of you are bastards," Sam answered.

"Aye but as I said earlier, it isn't right for a child to grow up as a bastard," Jon remarked. "Even if we were to wed, the child we'd have would still be a bastard. And," he pushed Sam lightly, "my brother loves her and though she doesn't admit it, a part of her loves him too."

"She made you small-clothes," he chuckled.

"Will everyone leave me alone about that," Jon groaned.

"So, that means you were naked for her," Sam asked.

"What is it with you wanting to know about my naked stories," Jon questioned. Sam smiled and egged him on. "I didn't fully undress for her. It was awkward, since my brother was also in the room. The last time I had done that it was just Nysa and I and..."

"Wait, so you've seen two girls who are naked," Sam's smile widened.

"That's why you want to talk to me about it, is it? You just want to hear about naked girls," Jon shook his head.

"Come on, the men are at a brothel," Sam elbowed him. "It is truly unfair that we can't indulge as well. At least give me a mental image?"

"Of a girl who I view as my sister," Jon looked at him with a furious look. "No," he chuckled then, "and besides she wasn't completely naked."

"Ah but you must have felt her?"

"Who has Jon felt," asked Pyp as he walked in the hall with Grenn.

"The girl who sends him letters," Sam answered as he made kissing noises.

"Gods, she's like my sister," Jon groaned as they sat him down.

"But, you've felt her," Grenn asked, "as in," gesturing towards his chest too. Jon shook his head and look away.

"I was telling him that it is most unfair the men go to the brothel in Mole's Town while we're stuck here."

"It's been a couple months since I've seen a girl," Pyp commented.

"Same here," Grenn nodded. "Sam is right. At least tell us how this mystery girl looks."

"No mystery," Jon answered. "She's..."

"I know, I know," Grenn replied, "she's like your sister. But you're here at the Wall. I'm sure you could tell us something juicy. I've heard from the girls in the North are just as warm as the ones from the South."

"I've heard that they can melt you down," Pyp suggested.

"What does that mean," asked Sam.

"You're a bunch of horny bastards that's what that means," Jon stood up as his friends continued to tease him. It was then that he paused at the door and thought to himself that it was nice to have friends.

* * *

She went into the door Ser Barristan held open for her. She had come through here many times before when accompanying Lord Stark. He had told her this morning that he would not be needing her assistance today. Now she was surprised to find herself entering the room of the small council.

"I understand your misgivings," Lord Varys began talking as Nysa walked in, "truly I do. It is a terrible thing we must consider. A vile thing," he stated. "Yet we who presume to rule must do vile things for the good of the Realm."

Nysa continued until she was right next to Lord Stark. He turned to look at her then. "Your Grace," she curtsied, "my Lords," she nodded to them, "Grand Maester."

"How old is this Daenerys," Lord Stark asked.

"She was born at the end of the Rebellion, at Dragon Stone," Lord Varys answered.

"Nysa," he took her hand and pulled her to stand in front of the table, "And how old are you?"

She looked over her shoulder at him before facing forward. "I am approaching my seventeenth name-day, my Lord."

"Sixteen," Lord Stark growled, "would you run her through with a sword, your Grace? What about you Lord Varys? Or you Grand Maester," he questioned. Nysa winced at Lord Stark's questioning and the tone of his voice. "No, you would not! And Daenerys is even younger than her. You are talking about murdering a child. I should have called Sansa in here. Would you treat her with such violence?"

"We bear the girl no ill-will," Grand Maester answered, "but how many innocents will die? How many towns will burn if we allow the Dothraki to invade? Is it not wise, kinder even, that the Targaryen girl should die now so that tens of thousands should live?"

"There is still the Rhaeger's daughter," Lord Varys held up his hand, "remember that she could not be found."

"She was presumed to be dead when the Lannisters sacked the Capital," Lord Stark responded, "they murdered innocents that day as well."

"Presumed," Lord Baelish said, "but never confirmed."

"We should have had the two Targaryen Princesses killed years ago," Renly mentioned as Nysa turned her head towards him.

"When they were nothing but babes, my Lord," Nysa questioned out loud.

Lord Baelish smiled and leaned forward. "It is never good to prolong the inevitable. Like being in bed with an ugly woman, best to just close your eyes and finish quickly." Nysa grimaced as Lord Baelish's smile widened, "Cut the young dragon's throat and be done with it."

"Who says that she will even come here and attack King's Landing, my Lords," Nysa questioned.

King Robert chuckled then and stood, pushing his seat back. "You were raised your entire life in the North but what would happen if you found out that your Lord Uncle, the one who sends you gifts every name-day was murdered and another sits in his place? You'd ride there with haste and bring the Seven hells with you if you could! That little whore in Essos will show us no mercy for what we did to her family."

"Then perhaps one should have thought of that before committing such crimes against her family, your Grace," she replied.

"Watch that girl's mouth, Ned," the King threatened. Nysa felt Lord Stark's hands on her shoulders. "She knows nothing of what happened..."

Lord Stark spoke up. "I have told her enough. And remember," he left Nysa's side and walked forward, "her father gave his life during your war. I myself followed you into war, twice, without doubts, without second thoughts," Lord Stark leaned against the table, "my men, loyal to me, like Ser Martyn Cassel," he gestured to Nysa, "followed you to war. They did so for an honorable cause. But we," he cleared his throat, "I will not do so now. The Robert I grew up with did not tremble at the shadow of an unborn child."

"She dies," the King proclaimed.

"I will have no part in it."

"You are the King's hand, Lord Stark. You will do as I command or I'll find me a hand who will."

Nysa shook her head slightly and looked towards Renly who sadly looked away from her and back towards Lord Stark. Lord Baelish caught her gaze then as he lifted his hand and shook his head as well, telling her that it was not a good time to speak up. She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her feet. A clanking noise indicated that something hit the small council's table.

"And good luck to him," Lord Stark said. "I thought you were a better man."

"No," she whispered looking back up.

"Out! Get out! I'm done with you," the King began. "Go! Run back to Winterfell," he said as Lord Stark turned around. He lifted his arm up for Nysa who took it quickly as they both headed towards the door. "I'll have your head on a spike, Ned! You hear me?"

Nysa felt her heart beating quickly as they exited the chambers. Lord Stark kept his head up and continued to keep walking with her by his side. Jory looked intently at her but she shook her head. She remembered Arya, Lord Stark, Renly as well as Lord Baelish's words about there always being someone listening to conversations.

"Do you remember the people in there," Lord Stark asked her.

"Of course, my Lord."

"Do you remember what they said, what they spoke of?" Nysa nodded as they hurried back towards the tower. "War is coming, Nysa."

"Between the Crown and Daenerys Targaryen," she asked.

"No," he shook his head, "another one. One that could cost my family's life."

"I will protect your daughters, my Lord."

"Good," he nodded before ushering her inside, "get your things ready and then help the girls put their things together as well."

She did as she was told, hurrying towards her room and grabbing everything that lay about it. She would worry about folding them neatly later, when they were far and well away from King's Landing. She had only thrown half of her things into the trunk when she saw Torrhen's bow hanging over the chair in her room. Walking over towards it, another memory entered her mind.

* * *

 _Flashback_

"You should learn the sword," Harrion Karstark told her.

Nysa shook her head. "Lady Catelyn would never allow it. But," she paused and looked over towards where Torrhen had begun another task. "That looks practical."

Harrion walked her over to Torrhen. At the end of the week, she had learned to shoot a bow properly. She missed the center a lot. But she'd hit the outer rim many times and that was something - considering her age and the fact that she had no formal training.

"Now you can protect yourself against the seals," Torrhen teased.

"Seals," Harrion gave her a confused expression.

Nysa nodded. "Theon said they sacrifice bastard children to seals on the Iron Islands so that the drowned Gods will forgive them for their sins. And if I remember correctly, there are seals off the coast of Karhold," she whispered loudly. "I don't want to be fed to the seals if your father and mother are displeased with me!"

Harrion broke out into laughter then. He laid a hand against his chest as his body wracked with laughter. It was loud and made Nysa feel embarrassed. She was scared being here in Karhold. She had seen only seven name-days.

"We do not feed anything to the seals here," Harrion said as he calmed down. "If anything, we hunt them," he knelt to her level. "You continue to learn that bow, little lady. And in time you can hunt anything you need to, in order to survive."

"Even a seal," she asked with a smile.

"Even a seal, maybe a bear or wolf," Harrion stood tall, "maybe even a lion."

* * *

"A lion," Nysa whispered as she realized what Lord Stark's words meant about a war coming soon. She slung the bow around her shoulder and attached the holder to her back. She moved to get Jory's dagger under her dress quickly. She would not leave her room without them until she was far away from King's Landing and the Lannisters. Nysa remembered her brother's warning and hurried to find him. "Jory!"

"What is it," he caught her in the hall way.

"It all makes sense, now," she grabbed onto his shoulders.

"What does?"

"Forgive me for intruding," a voice broke them apart.

"Lord Baelish," Nysa frowned at his presence.

"I need to speak to Lord Stark."

"You've come at a most inopportune time," Jory said, standing in front of his sister.

"This is a matter of great importance."

"Why is it that everything is a matter of great importance," Nysa huffed as Jory turned to look at her.

The situation wasn't that much of an importance, Nysa thought as she watched a scantily clad woman smile at her brother. She wasn't the first one to approach them as they waited inside Lord Baelish's brothel. yes, the man owned a brothel. Of all the things that a Lord could own, she shook her head as yet another woman ran her hands across Porther's face. She whispered in his ear as he reached his hand down and smacked her bottom. She giggled before walking away.

"I'm assuming you've been here before," Nysa commented.

"And is it unlawful to indulge oneself the pleasurable company of a woman," Lord Baelish asked as he stepped towards them.

"Where's Lord Stark," she narrowed her eyes at him.

"With one of the girls here," he answered with that smile that made her uneasy. "Most of the girls here are just like you," he nodded to her. "If not for your brother's kindness where do you think you would be?"

"That's enough, my Lord," Jory snarled. Nysa looked over towards him before turning back to Lord Baelish.

"If you didn't have your Lord Uncle in the South or if Lord Stark hadn't help raise you," Lord Baelish continued, "you'd be left with nothing but not your body. And a beautiful body can help a girl make a living. When girls don't have families, they come here," he smiled again and held up his hand. Two girls appeared then with nothing covering their breasts as they walked towards her, touching her hair and smiling at her.

Nysa took a step back and looked to Lord Baelish. "There's more to a woman than her body," she replied sharply before adding, "and that comment you made earlier during the small council meeting was vile and..."

"Let's go," Lord Stark said then as he walked over.

"Did you find everything satisfying, Lord Stark," Lord Baelish asked of him as Lord Stark gave him a menacingly look.

"Nysa come," he called to her, "this is no place for a Lady." She hurried past the two women near her and followed Lord Stark. "If you must know," he said as they went to the exit. "I'm following Jon Arryn's trail. And that trail is towards all the children that Robert has fathered." Lord Stark stopped and turned to look at Nysa. "Why do you think Lord Arryn was looking for these children?"

"Maybe King Robert wants to take care of them now," she shrugged.

Lord Stark chuckled. "I doubt it. Robert is not the type of man to be a good father. These children," he shook his head, "they look just like him too." He commented before walking out.

Nysa looked for her brother and watched as he slowly turned away from the women who Lord Baelish had brought towards her.

"If you wish to have some entertainment..."

"No," he stopped her. "It's just," he looked back as the girls went into the brothel. "It's just been a long time since I've bedded a woman." Nysa bit her lip and looked down. "Not that I needed to share that information with my sister."

"Of course not," she laughed before taking his hand and walking out.

They exited to see the entire courtyard had filled with guards. And not just any guards, these were the Lannister's men.

"Such a small pack of wolves," Ser Jamie strode up towards them then and dismounted from his horse.

"Stay back, Ser. This is the Hand of the King," Jory proclaimed.

"Was," Ser Jamie replied. "Now, I'm not sure what he is."

"We know what you are," Nysa shouted.

"What's the meaning of this," Lord Baelish came out.

"Get back inside, where it's safe," Ser Jamie told him.

"Nysa, go with Lord Baelish," Lord Stark instructed her.

"No," she shook her head.

"You best listen to him and go inside, girl," Ser Jamie told her as Lord Baelish went to grab her arm. She pulled it away and continued to look at him. "You see I'm looking for my brother," he turned to face Lord Stark. "You remember my brother, don't you? Blonde hair, sharp tongue, short man," Ser Jamie described Tyrion Lannister.

"I remember him well," Lord Stark nodded.

"He came onto some trouble on the road. You wouldn't know what happened to him now, would you?"

"He was taken at my command to answer for his crimes against..."

It was then that Ser Jamie drew out his sword. Lord Baelish grabbed Nysa's arm again. "Come with me, Lady Snowflake. It'll be safer inside." He turned to Ser Jamie. "My Lords, I'll bring the City Watch."

"Come, Lord Stark..."

Jory stepped forward. "If you threaten my Lord..."

"Threaten," Ser Jamie snorted. "I will open him from balls to brain and see what Starks are made of."

She didn't like this. She didn't like it at all. There were only half a dozen guards here with Lord Stark.

"You kill me, your brother is a dead man," Lord Stark reminded Ser Jamie.

"Right," he replied before nodding to the other guards. A few of them stepped forward. He turned back and looked at Nysa. "You should have gone inside when you had the chance, girl. Take his men and the girl."

It was then that a spear flew and hit Mort - a guard who had often been sent out to look for her and Jon whenever they snuck out of Winterfell's walls. She stared in horror before anger filled her entire body. She did just as Torrhen taught her, notching the arrow in the bow and aiming it at the soldier. The arrow spun past Ser Jamie's head and landed in the guard's chest. The guard was flown back. Quickly she grabbed a second arrow and aimed it towards the second guard who was preparing to throw a spear. Lord Stark and Jory had already drawn their swords.

"A man for a man," Nysa said as Ser Jamie stared at her. "Tell your men to stand down," she shouted as the second guard lowered his spear. "Stand down, Ser!"

Ser Jamie shook his head. "You see the thing is, a Lannister guard is worth more than three northmen," he looked to the second guard, "and you follow my commands! Take them!"

Before the second guard could release his spear, Nysa released her bow. She felt a strange sense of anger, pain, frustration and guilt all mixed into one as the arrow landed in the man's chest. She had hunted a few animals with her brother and the guards, had even gone out with Lord Stark when he took Robb and Jon with him. But this was different. She just took someone's life. That someone could have been a father, a brother, a husband.

"Nysa!"

She turned to see a Lannister guard charging after her. Wyl came to stand in front of her and held to take him down. She looked over at her brother and saw him handling his own. Two guards were fighting Lord Stark so she decided to even the odds for him. She notched another arrow and flew it past him, shooting the second guard down. Lord Stark turned around and nodded his thanks to her. If one of the guards were in trouble, she helped them out. She shot a fourth and fifth guard down. She had just notched her sixth arrow when she dropped her bow.

Ser Jamie threw a dagger into Heward's face before pulling it out, smirking at Nysa. "You monster," she charged towards him only to have Lord Stark grab her and pull her back. He kept a grip on her as she flung her arms out at him.

"You should have stayed inside, girl," he forced her back towards three guards who held her back, one of them started twisting her arm.

The men touched her hair and whispered things in her ear about being pretty and how nice she smelled. They asked if she tasted just as good. It was disgusting and made her feel violated. She kicked out her legs and tried her best to pull her arms free. She was finally able to kick one of them in the gut and had just reached for her dagger when one of them slapped her, throwing her down to the ground.

"Let her go!" Everyone seemed to freeze in the yard. "You wanted me, Kingslayer," Lord Stark said holding up his sword.

Ser Jamie didn't even look her way but grabbed Nysa by her arm and flew her towards her brother.

"Lord Stark," Nysa shook her head but Jory pushed her back.

She watched as Lord Stark and Ser Jamie beat their swords at one another. She shook her head and was just about to call out a weakness that she saw in Ser Jamie when Lord Stark took advantage of whatever it was that she saw. She cheered then at Ser Jamie's shock that Lord Stark was keeping up with him. At one point, it even looked as though Lord Stark was about to get the best of him. Nysa was not the only one who noticed.

A Lannister guard walked up to Lord Stark, stabbing him in his leg. "No," she shouted.

Lord Stark fell to his knees. Nysa ran towards where she dropped her bow, quickly notching an arrow and letting it fly. This time she missed but the look on her target's face was well worth. Ser Jamie turned to look at her before looking down at his hand to see the scratch from Nysa's arrow.

Nysa was thrown from her position. A knee was in her back before she could move. Several hands gripped her as she felt boots dig into her side. Her head was pressed further into the dirt on the street, drowning out Jory's pleas for mercy.

"Shall we punish her, Ser," one of them lifted Nysa's head up to see Ser Jamie walking over to her. A knife was placed at her cheek.

Ser Jamie put hit boot to her other cheek and smiled wickedly. "I think I shall."

"No," Jory shouted.

"Go ahead," Nysa narrowed her eyes. "It's what you Lannister men do best is it not," she taunted as Ser Jamie's smile dropped. "Kill me as your men killed Prince Aegon," she shouted causing Jamie to falter. "Have your guards rape me then kill me as they did Princess Elia," her voice echoed loudly.

Jamie looked up as he noticed that a few of the smallfolk who did not leave the streets were now whispering to one another. He saw all the eyes on him as the young women continued to shout about everything that happened that night - the guards murdering Prince Viserys, the hunt for Queen Rhaella and her unborn child, the murder of King Aerys, the sacking of King's Landing, the hundreds of innocents in the Crownlands who didn't survive.

"Do the honor, you backstabbing traitor," Nysa shouted. "Cut me down, break your oath to protect those who are innocent! Do it!"

 _Protect my family._ He had forgotten about that voice. He had forgotten about it. It had been so long since that voice had commanded him to do his duty, uphold his responsibility to honor the oath he had taken. He felt like the air had been taken out of his lungs as this bastard girl continued to shout.

"You Lannisters have no honor, none! You will harm a young woman for defending the honor of her Lord then so be it, Kingslayer!"

Jamie looked back at the determination in her eyes. Instead of seeing fear he saw fire. He shook his head at a sudden image that came to his mind and took a step back. _Amie._ He looked at the girl again before one of his guards asked him for permission to end her life.

"No! Get off from her," Ser Jamie pushed a guard away from Nysa. "I said get off," he gripped the collar of a second guard before pushing him back.

The third guard stepped back. Jamie went to help Nysa up only to have her spit in his face. "You're a coward, a cowardly lion," she said.

Jamie took a step away from her, glanced at her one last time before calling for his horse. The Lannister guards emptied the courtyard as quickly as he did. Nysa hurried over towards Lord Stark. Jory called for her horse and asked if she could carry Lord Stark with her on it. She mounted first and then the guards placed Lord Stark behind her. She looked around to see Mort, Hyle, Haryn and Heward had been killed today. Heward, she sighed as she saw Wyl pull his body onto his horse.

"Ride for the tower, Nysa," Jory instructed her as they began picking up the fallen northmen.

She nodded and kicked the horse, hurrying as Lord Stark groaned and leaned more against her. "We're almost there, Lord Stark. We're almost there."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Nysa stood quietly in the room as Queen Cersei continued to stare at the table in front of her. There were little figures on the table, made up in some sort of arrangement that confused Nysa. She watched as the Queen studied the pieces before pulling her gaze away. It landed on Ser Meryn who stood by the door - the door that was her escape. She never been alone with the Queen before.

"Do you know this game," the Queen finally asked, breaking the silence in the room. "Of course, you wouldn't know," she answered for her, "a bastard girl like you from the North - you wouldn't know such luxuries."

"I've heard that this game originated in Essos," Nysa spoke causing the Queen to turn her head towards her, "at least that's what I've been told. Forgive me, if I'm wrong, my Queen."

"What are you doing here?"

"I..." Nysa shook her head and looked back at Ser Meryn. "You summoned me here, your Grace?"

The Queen smiled lightly before turning back to the table. "Yes, I summoned you here. I was the one who did the summoning, don't you think I would know why you are here," she said the last part quite loudly and with a certain screech that made Nysa tremble. "I'll ask my question again, Lady Bastard," she said it slowly. "What are you doing here?"

Nysa thought a moment as to Queen Cersei's question before looking down at her feet.

"Unable to answer," Cersei spoke up, "or is just that you've learned your sweet words only work on one Lannister twin," she finished and moved a piece on the table before clapping lightly.

The Queen turned back to her and their eyes met.

"If you want to win the game, you always stay one move ahead of your opponent. It's a pity when I heard that the little Stark boy could no longer walk again, a great pity," she said. "I'm glad that he was able to write a letter to you. Such a sweet drawing that the younger one made, too," she added which made Nysa's heart beat wildly.

How did the Queen know that Bran and Rickon had sent a letter?

"One Stark girl has her wolf attack my son and the other is set to wed him," she smiled, "one move."

Cersei motioned for Ser Meryn to step forward and he did. He put a helmet on the ground in front of Nysa. She looked down at it to see blood stains both inside and out.

"My brother was taken by Lady Stark, I'm sure that you've heard."

"I have, your Grace," she replied softly.

"Jamie confronted Lord Stark about it and for some reason," the Queen's hands grabbed Nysa's face forcing her to look up. Nysa did not even know that she had stood up from her chair and moved towards her. The thought that she had done just so and without detection made Nysa nervous again. "Lannister men were killed this fine day, one move," she repeated the last part.

"They attacked Lord Stark, my Queen."

"They attacked Lord Stark," Queen Cersei repeated in a mocking tone before releasing Nysa's face. "And what was it that you said, _a man for a man_ ," the Queen laughed lightly and walked back to her chair. "How poetic that you would think a northern man would equal that of a Lannister," she smiled and then sighed. "I truly do not know what they are teaching you up there in the North but you are no longer there, Lady Bastard. You are here in King's Landing."

"I've been here for almost three months, I'm glad that you told me where I was," Nysa replied.

Ser Meryn drew his sword and approached her but the Queen held her hand up. "You have a sharp tongue but that will not help you with me. I do not know what it is that you hope to accomplish while you are here but you are no longer protected as you once were. Before, Lord Stark was Hand and now he is not. That makes you just another bastard here in the Capital. I suggest you learn your place quickly or I will teach you it!"

"Do you mean to threaten me the same way your brother threatened Lord Stark, your Grace," she dared to question as Cersei narrowed her eyes.

"As I said before, words will not work on me. I have been playing this game far longer than you have."

"I thought you said that I didn't know this game," Nysa mocked.

"Why you..."

A knock sounded at the door and the Queen gestured with her hands for Ser Meryn to open it. She did not look too pleased with the interruption.

"Forgive me for intruding." Nysa whipped her head quickly towards the voice to see Ser Jamie standing there. "I did not mean to interrupt a private meeting."

"I was merely discussing the importance of a quiet tongue with the Lady Bastard," the Queen replied causing Nysa to flinch at how gentle her voice seemed to turn.

"Then I will bid you a quick farewell," Ser Jamie made the statement to his sister but kept his eyes on Nysa.

"Farewell," the Queen appeared to be shocked and if Nysa could guess correctly - hurt.

"Father requested my presence," he turned slowly to look at his sister.

Nysa could only assume that going against their Father's wishes was not something that was easily tolerated. She wanted to argue that he was a member of the Kingsguard. His duty was to protect the King - first and foremost. It was not right that he was leaving King's Landing.

"Leave us," the Queen instructed Nysa.

She released a breath she had been holding in since she found herself in the company of both Lannister twins. Unfortunately, one of those Lannisters did not see fit that she left exactly at this moment. Ser Jamie's arm reached out to stop her. She faltered for a bit before keeping her eyes locked on the door - on her salvation - and stated in a calm voice that she dare not disobey the Queen.

"And the Queen did request that I leave," Nysa added which made Ser Jamie's hands fall.

"I will escort you back," Ser Jamie told her.

"Jamie," the Queen stood up from her seat and let out a laugh as though the thought of her brother escorting the young woman was ridiculous.

"Father made the request, your Grace," he commented without turning to look back at her. "I cannot deny our Father. I have bid you farewell and seeing that you have dismissed this young woman, I will see her back to the Hand's tower."

"I know my way..."

The Kingsguard took her hand and placed it on his arm as he turned sharply towards the door. Ser Meryn stepped out of their way as they exited, leaving behind a very baffled looking Queen. The walk to the tower was a quiet and uncomfortable one. Nysa felt as though her hand were burning. She wanted to tear it away from the knight escorting her but fear for her life made her resist. With her other hand, she subtly tapped her thigh to make sure that Jory's dagger was still there.

"The day that King's Landing fell still haunts me," he said suddenly causing Nysa to stop. Ser Jamie turned to face her then. "I think it always will. Everyone believes that it doesn't. But they couldn't be more wrong."

"Ser, I don't understand..."

"My sister hated Princess Elia because she wanted to wed the Prince," he nodded towards the door. "She called Princess Elia plain with a flat chest." Nysa did not know why but she felt anger. "But she was kind and the people of Dorne adored her. Her temper suited the Prince in a way that I know my sister's would not. My father felt slighted when the King chose Elia and not Cersei. As much as my family did not like her, I found her to be generous and amiable. She treated everyone, including myself, as someone important to her. She got to know every servant, every guard and every court attendee as best as she could. She took a personal interest in those she met. I always saw her with her children. I even helped carry them when she was too ill. Of course she protested handing off her son and daughter to just about anyone," he chuckled as he recalled the memory.

"I still do not know why you are telling...

"A devoted mother, an attentive Princess and a caring wife - she would have made a great Queen. You were right," he added which got Nysa's attention. "There was nothing honorable about the way that she died."

"And her children?"

"If you must know I hated the sight of Prince Aegon's body being laid out to my father. I detested that my father applauded the actions of it. Yes, according to a strategic mind like that of my father's it was the most logical choice - to remove the heir to the Iron Throne."

"He was a child," she whispered.

"He was a threat," he stated plainly.

"He could have been taught. He could have been raised to be different from his grandfather. There was no need to destroy an innocent life," she shook her head. "You of all people, someone who had seen him grow up could surely..."

"By the time, I had remembered that the Princess and her son were here it was too late. I admit that I should have done something sooner but I was concerned about the safety of thousands of others. King Aerys was mad!"

"And that is an excuse?"

"There was nothing considered honorable about the breaking of my oath," he took a step closer, their bodies almost pressed together. "I understand that. I was told to protect the King, the royal family, his secrets and those of my sworn brothers. But it did not mean that I had to enjoy the things that he did. You may think that there were other ways but at the time there didn't seem like any. And believe me, I think about what happened and how things could have been different every single day of my life. I enjoyed serving the royal family. The other knights," he shook his head, "they all enjoyed serving the royal family. It was a great honor. And I threw that away," he shook his head. "You may not think I'm being honest - what with the way you were raving earlier today - but I am ashamed of that day. My behavior was treasonous. My father's behavior was treasonous. There was nothing honorable about what my father did, you were right about that as well."

"Did you know that he would betray the King," she asked.

The Kingsguard stared at her for a moment before looking down and nodding. "I had an intuition, an inkling that my father did not come here to help him. I suggested against opening the gates to him. Everything after that, it all happened so fast. I had to make a decision that haunts me forever," he admitted to her. "And earlier today, I was reminded that despite everything that happened, I took an oath to protect the King and the royal family. And no matter which way you look at it, I did not fulfill that oath on that day."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because one day I will ask you for your forgiveness."

Nysa narrowed her eyes before looking around the hallway that they were in. "Is this some sort of trickery?"

"No, it is not," he shook his head before taking a few steps back. For some reason, Nysa felt as though she could breathe now. "I just," he paused and wondered how much of the story he could reveal to her. "I know who you are," he admitted.

"Everyone knows who I am. I am the girl from the North, household member of Lord and Lady Stark. I am to become one of Lady Sansa's ladies when she becomes Queen. I am called Lady Snowflake or Lady Bastard."

"That is not who you are."

"You aren't making any sense," she shook her head.

He chuckled at how plainly she put it before he turned towards the hallway to see a few Lannister guards, awaiting his instruction. "It would be safer if you learned who your mother was when you are farther away from here, believe me."

"Safer and yet somehow I should feel indebted to you because you know this secret," she narrowed her eyes at him.

"It is I who is indebted to you," he clarified. "That is the reason why I am going to leave and not say a thing about it."

"Are you really leaving the Capital," she looked towards the guards and back at him. They looked eager to depart.

"Yes."

"But why," she questioned him. "As a member of the Kingsguard you should be here in King's Landing, serving the royal family as you so eloquently put it not too long ago."

"I have been summoned by my father and I am to answer it," he replied.

"You are breaking your oath again," Nysa reminded Ser Jamie as he let out a deep sigh.

"I know I've made a vow to serve the King. But I also must go to get my brother back. He is and always will be kin to me. Remember him," he mocked, "your Lord Stark ordered to have him captured."

"I," she could not find the words and as her voice broke, she felt the fear growing in her once again. She tapped her hand to her side, feeling the dagger and gaining some sense of confidence.

"Let us be honest with one another," he tilted his head, "as I honestly spoke about that infamous day with you. Did you know that Lady Catelyn would take my brother as her prisoner?"

Nysa shook her head. "But I do know that she was here in King's Landing, speaking to Lord Stark," she confessed - not understanding why she had shared that information. "Someone attacked Bran, tried to kill him. But I'm sure you already know that." She looked back to the Queen's chambers. "It seems that these walls do you have ears."

Ser Jamie smiled lightly before stating, "she has the wrong person in custody."

"You know who ordered the assassination?"

He shook his head. "I do not but I can tell you though that it was not my brother. He showed a sense of grief when hearing of the young Stark boy, expressed his delight in the boy's ability to live and possibly awaken one day."

Nysa nodded. "I hate to admit it but I think you are right. I remember Lord Tyrion told Prince Joffrey to express his condolences over the matter," she shared with him, "said that it was the right thing to do." She was thoughtful now about the situation.

"Prince Joffrey?"

"Aye," she answered, "I stumbled upon Lord Tyrion the morning we were to leave. We were discussing my mother and the possibility of me being a Lannister," she made a face of disgust that caused him to chuckle. "During our conversation, Prince Joffrey found us and he began mocking Bran," she shook her head. "Lord Tyrion slapped him," she peered into his eyes, "told the Prince that he had to apologize to me and speak with Lord and Lady Stark."

"He slapped Prince Joffrey," Ser Jamie studied her face to see if she was exaggerating the story.

She nodded her head again.

"And the Prince didn't seem the least bit upset about it, especially since you were there?"

"He did say that he was going to tell his mother. Lord Tyrion didn't buckle under the threat," she shrugged. "He," she paused and looked away, even deeper in thought. "He seemed even more determined to let Prince Joffrey know that it was his duty to call upon Lord and Lady Stark, apologize to me and make amends somehow."

Ser Jamie took in the information that she gave to him. Some time had passed before he looked back up to her. "Do you know why they assumed it was my brother?"

"Someone told Lady Catelyn that it was Lord Tyrion," she answered.

"Who was it?"

This time it was Nysa who shook her head in response. Ser Jamie looked troubled and Nysa could not help but admit that he did state the truth. She could not see why Lord Tyrion would do such a thing either when Jory had explained it to her after they had seen to Lord Stark's well-being. Lord Tyrion was straight-forward in his thoughts but after he somewhat relieved her of his nephew's company in Winterfell and after Jon had stated that he viewed him as a friend, it was hard to think of him as hiring someone to assassinate Bran. In fact, he had expressed deep sympathy over it. Or was that just a plot as well?

"Remember your wits," she mumbled.

"Excuse me," Ser Jamie questioned.

She shook her head again. "Something your brother told me the day that we were leaving for King's Landing. He said that I had to remember my wits. I would need it." She looked down and then shook her head. "Someone forget their wits and now," her eyes met Ser Jamie's, "there's no stopping it, isn't there?"

"War?" He moved his head to indicate that there would be no stopping.

"I'm still upset that you attacked Lord Stark."

"I'm still upset that your Lady Stark thought she could take my brother without consequences," he challenged.

"Must everything be about getting revenge or as your sister put it being one move ahead," she responded.

He smirked. "It is about repaying a debt and a Lannister always pays his debts." Jamie stepped further away from her. "I take my leave of you now. Go down this hall and take a right," he pointed. "It should lead you straight to the Hand's tower without running into any guards."

* * *

Robb sat there in the godswood, pouring over yet another letter speaking about what was happening in King's Landing.

His father was attacked by the Kingslayer, Nysa had taken up her bow and shot down Lannister guards to protect him, Winterfell guards lost their lives and their bodies were being sent back, and all this because his mother had taken Lord Tyrion as prisoner.

Perhaps Robb should have kept him here and interrogated him instead of agreeing to let him stay. He shook his head and looked down at Nysa's letter. She did not believe Lord Tyrion was in the wrong. And for some reason neither did Robb. Lord Tyrion would not have agreed to help Bran if he were the guilty party. Oh, it was so confusing.

"I pray you were here, father," Robb whispered. "I pray that Jon was here. I pray Nysa and mother were here," he added as he knelt in front of the tree. "I do not know what I am doing. I want to protect my family but they are all so far away from me. What do I do? What am I supposed to do?"

Despite the relief he found from being on his own, he knew there were responsibilities awaiting him once he returned to the Keep. He stayed there in the godswood just a while longer, relishing the calm that the woods provided in this time of chaos.

A sudden image of Nysa and her smile came into his mind. It was the first time that he dared to take her hand in his. They were walking in the same spot that he was in right now. She had been grieving since her return from Karhold and Robb didn't like the frown that seemed to fix itself on her brow. He suggested that they go riding - just the two of them. It had been a slow ride within the walls of Winterfell until they came to rest at a spring and allow their horses to drink. He attempted to ask her questions but she gave short answers and redirected the conversation back to him.

Nysa began to walk away and it was then that Robb spotted the heart tree. He spoke about his parent's wedding ceremony and how he hoped that when he would wed it would be in front of the heart tree, in front of the old gods, right here in Winterfell. When he asked her about what she envisions, Nysa had replied that she would never wed. She began to cry, throwing herself against the tree and sobbing. She urged Robb to leave her alone, to leave her be. He refused to and did his best to placate her, telling her that she would wed.

* * *

 _Flashback_

"I am not beautiful enough to inspire attraction from a man," her body had wracked with sobs. "I'm just a lowly bastard, nothing but a child!"

"Did Theon tell you such things?"

"He does not need to," she covered her face.

"But someone did," he replied as she continued to cry. "Is that why you have been so dejected lately? Because one man thought you not beautiful enough," he groaned and turned her around to face him. "Nysa, you are a vision," he confessed, "ten times the young women I have seen here in the North. A hundred times the girls that Theon delights in at the brothel."

Nysa rolled her eyes before snarling at him. "Now I'm like a whore?"

"That is not what I meant," he growled before taking a few steps back.

It grew quiet before he took a step forward, taking her hand in his. He rubbed his thumb slowly on the back of her hand, closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. Robb had no idea where the sudden heat came from but a fire built within him as their bodies pressed close together.

"What I attempted to say is that there is no one that can stand against you when it comes to beauty. I do not care what another man has told you but he could not be more wrong," he pulled back and her eyes fluttered open to look up at him. "I have met many a young pretty woman - ladies and common folk alike - and they pale in comparison. To me, you are utterly perfect, Nysa. I envy the husband you are to wed," he smiled and saw a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"That was very kind of you, Robb," her hand was placed on his chest and immediately he felt a wave of passion and desire overtake him. "Thank you for saying what you said, even if..."

"I meant it, Nysa," he nodded, "every word."

"Then I will envy your wife too for I know that you will always have these lovely confessions for her," she smiled.

She had smiled - for the first time in days. Robb meant it. He had seen a lot of pretty girls but for some reason he only saw Nysa. And now that she was smiling, he'd do anything to keep her face looking bright and happy as it looked that day that they held hands under the heart tree.

* * *

Robb patted the tree and turned out of the Godswood to head back into the Keep. True that had not been the first time they held hands but it was the first time it held any romantic notion for Robb. The other times they were young children and it meant nothing. But that day it meant something - it meant everything.

"Robb! Robb!"

He turned from his spot to see Bran sitting upon a horse. Immediate happiness and joy washed through him. A wide smile was etched upon his younger brother's face and he walked quickly towards them.

"It's the saddle that Lord Tyrion gave me the plans for," Bran declared. "It has finished! And," he paused and his smile grew - if that was even possible - causing Robb to laugh lightly. "Look at me, Robb! I'm on a horse! I can go riding again!"

"Aye," Robb nodded. "Why don't we do that now?"

"Truly," Bran looked excited.

"Aye, let's go," he tilted his head and began to lead the horse out from the stable.

"But what about your duties? Maester Luwin said a raven came earlier this morning from the Capital. Was it from Nysa? Does she have word from Arya? Oh, if they could see me now," Bran continued on in delight.

Robb turned and patted the young horse's neck before running down to its chest. He took hold of the reins again and looked up at his brother. Duties and news of their father would wait. He did not want to destroy his brother's happiness right now.

"It was from Nysa," he admitted that much, "perhaps you can write something in return and tell her of your riding? Of course, you wouldn't know much about it unless you were to ride," Robb pulled the horse out further.

"Yes, let's ride," Bran said as he hit his reigns causing the horse to gallop.

"There's something you're not telling him," Theon came towards Robb.

Robb looked over towards Bran who was still smiling. Just like he did that day with Nysa, he was to do it now. He'd make sure that the smile would stay on Bran's face. He handed the letter towards Theon before walking after his brother. He wouldn't tell Bran, not now.

* * *

"Would you like to accompany me today, Nysa," asked Lord Stark as they broke their fast.

"Of course," Nysa nodded before turning towards her brother. He subtly shook his head.

Something strange had happened when Lord Stark had woken up. The King and Queen were in the room as Nysa tended to Lord Stark. It happened so fast that she could barely react. The King had slapped the Queen causing Nysa to let out a slight scream. She had rarely seen a husband treat his wife so and for a moment she reminded herself that she could not say anything about it. He was the King. She was rushed out after the Queen and began to press a cold rag to her cut and bruise, but the Queen immediately grabbed Nysa's wrist and shook her head.

"I just wanted to treat your cut. It was wrong of him to..." Nysa began but the Queen stopped her.

"If you wish to treat me, you will say nothing about it." Nysa nodded lowly. "Do you understand me, Lady Bastard?"

"Yes, my Queen."

Nysa had spent majority of her time since then either caring for Lord Stark, ensuring that the fallen guards were returned to Winterfell, writing letters to Robb and Lady Catelyn to inform them of the news, and assisting the girls with whatever needed to be done. Basically, she had refused to leave the Hand's tower and face the Queen again after that. She found that she couldn't even look at the King either, without remembering that day. And now, Lord Stark was asking her to accompany him. She wanted to refuse but knew that her loyalty was to House Stark.

"What will you be doing today, father," asked Arya.

"The King will be going on a hunt," Lord Stark explained. "I am to hear the concerns of the people in King Robert's absence."

"So, you'll be acting King," Arya inquired.

"Something like that," he smiled at his daughter before turning towards the other. "And what will you be doing today, Sansa?"

"My lessons," she moved her fork slowly over her plate, causing Nysa to look over at her.

Yesterday, she seemed to be doing well so the change in mood once again surprised Nysa. "If you would like me to stay with you..."

"Go with my father, Nysa," Sansa stood up abruptly causing Septa Mordane to chastise her but she did not listen. She did not listen at all.

"She was well yesterday," Nysa commented.

"She has not yet returned to the Prince's good favor," added Septa Mordane. "Do you think that the King will call off the betrothal?"

"If he does not, then perhaps I will," Lord Stark stated with finality. "This is hurting Sansa far more than I thought it would. It be best if it continues no longer. I do not desire my daughter to become Queen if this is how she will be treated."

Nysa turned to the Septa who had a grave look on her face at Lord Stark's tone but nodded in agreement. Even she understood that something was amiss with Sansa.

"There are many fine knights here in the South," Nysa lifted her cup. Lord Stark coughed a little, but appeared to not want to discuss the matter about betrothing his daughter to someone from the South should he or King Robert decide to end the betrothal to the Prince. The topic was then dropped altogether and they broke their fast in relative silence.

When they had finished, Nysa went to retrieve her bow and dagger. Wyl made a comment about her being so heavily fitted for battle but she reminded him of what happened outside Lord Baelish's brothel. Lord Stark had asked her about the guards who lost their lives and Nysa informed him that Robb had been notified and transport was made to have them returned to the North after the Silent Sisters had cared for them. She would continue to care for the needs of House Stark, regardless of what they were and that included being so heavily fitted for battle.

Ser Preston and Ser Barristan showed them into the throne room. Ser Preston came to walk beside her, asking if she had been well. He feared for her safety when he heard that she was summoned before the Queen days ago. He had not seen her since then and thought that something had happened.

"I have been well, fine knight," she replied. "I thought it better that I stay at the Hand's tower. Besides assisting with lessons, a few of the guards sustained injuries." She bit her lip and wondered if she should have mentioned it. Surely, the entire Capital would know about the incident by now.

"I am most grieved to hear about your fallen Northmen. I prayed that you were unharmed," Ser Preston stated, confirming her thoughts.

"Thank you, Ser Preston," she nodded to him before Ser Barristan opened the door. "Will you be joining the King?"

"We will accompany him to the woods," Ser Barristan replied to her question instead, "but he chooses who goes on the hunt."

"Then the King will be in good hands," she smiled before gracing them both with a curtsy.

Lord Renly smiled at her as they entered the room. He had visited the tower when Lord Stark was in recovery and brought her a dragon's breath flower. She had thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. He apologized for his behavior and admitted that he did not have a way with ladies. When she inquired as to why he felt the need to apologize, he answered with regards to the small council meeting. They spoke about what happened in the council's chamber and he confessed that it did not seem as though murdering a child was the right thing to do but he must support his King and brother. In no way would he lift a blade against a young woman such as herself but he needed to obey his King.

Thinking about their conversation, Nysa returned his smile as Lord Stark limped towards the throne. He talked to the King about certain matters under hushed tones as Lord Renly came by her side.

"It will get rather boring in here," he teased.

"Does the King have to go hunting now? There is tension," she whispered the last part.

"Beyond what happened in the small council meeting, you mean?"

"Surely, you've heard..."

"Aye, I have," Renly nodded and took her a few steps on the side. "Be careful, Lady Snowflake. Watch those wolf girls," he advised, "for the lions here are cunning."

"I see you have taken a shine to the young Nysa," the King's hand rest on his brother's shoulder. Renly smiled at the King. Nysa was just about to curtsy when the King's laughter stopped her. "I think she looks like the Dayne girl, told Ned a few times as well but he won't believe me."

"I have not had the pleasure of meeting the lady so I would not be able to compare the two, brother," Lord Renly replied.

"Lady Dayne," Nysa questioned.

"Yes, Lady Ashara Dayne," King Robert replied, "she was a beauty, made your Lord Stark over there weak in the knees. I believe they were in love. She had a daughter, would be your age," he nodded to Nysa. "Of course, everyone thought that her child was Ned's," he laughed.

But then that would mean that Lord Stark had three children around the same time. It was possible that Lord Stark could have been her father, Robb's and Jon's. Yet, she could hardly think of Lord Stark spending his time with multiple women as the King did. Lord Stark's devotion to Lady Catelyn was deep and real. And since they had been here, he'd often thought and spoke of his wife. He would not disrespect her more than once - not Lord Stark.

"Leave the girl be," Lord Stark called out and gestured for Nysa to stand at his side which she did.

There were other instructions given to Lord Stark before the King departed. She watched as the King shouted at Lancel who looked up to her with pleading eyes. She could not rescue him on the hunt. He would have to learn to stand up for himself. It was then that she noticed the Queen glance at the young squire before the entire party filed out.

"Is there anything that you would need me for, Lord Hand," the Queen asked as she eyed Lord Stark sitting on the throne but he dismissed her.

"Ah Lady Nysa," Lord Baelish smiled and offered her a slight bow. "I see you have your trusty bow with you," he smiled again, "shot down a few guards the other day, did you?"

"Like my brother and our father before us, we serve House Stark the best that we can, Lord Baelish," she answered.

"Well met," he nodded.

"And will you be sitting in also, my Lord," she asked.

"I will," he answered, "as Master of the coin, it is important to know whether such concerns will be profitable to the crown. The small folk usually do not ask for much but the crown is always generous."

"A noble responsibility," she replied, "perhaps the first one you are tasked with that I find I agree to."

"Still do not like my businesses," he questioned.

"No, I do not," she smiled and looked forward. "If I were to catch my husband in there, I'd do more than shoot him with an arrow."

"Let me pray that your husband never come to one of my establishments then," he smiled, "you would scare all of them away."

"That would be the best for their wives, my Lord."

"But not for the girls who work for me," he countered.

Nysa did her best to ignore Lord Baelish's presence as Lord Stark heard the concerns of the Lords and Ladies. There were some of them who she admittedly wanted to roll her eyes at. There were important, weightier matters to be concerned about than the things they were bringing forth. Some of these things could be resolved within their own Houses. She thought then of Robb and wondered how he was fairing with his duties of Lord of Winterfell.

"Ser Marq Piper, Ser Karyl Vance and Ser Raymun Darry for you, my Lord," announced Jory.

"Show them in," Lord Stark nodded to the door.

Nysa watched as the three men entered.

"Lord Stark," Ser Raymun bowed. "I bring the King word from your good-father, Lord Tully."

"I am seeing to matters in the King's absence. What is your request?"

"Our lands are being raided," he answered.

"And what have you done to protect your lands?"

"We've sent men to stop these attacks. We've barricaded our gates to our castles. We've moved some of the villagers into our walls. We need more men. I present to you Ser Karyl Vance."

"My Lord," Ser Karyl bowed. "I have with me people from the towns that are under my protection. The population of these towns has declined. Their houses are burned, their sons put to the sword and their daughters raped." Nysa looked away before taking a deep breath and putting on a brave face. "It is not only the smallfolk that are being attacked."

"Lord Stark," the youngest one of them all stepped forward. "Perhaps you do not remember me. I was present at your wedding feast to Lady Catelyn. I am Ser Marq Piper. My own home of Pinkmaiden has had to defend itself. Stone Hedge has been attacked. They are holding as best they can, we all are," he looked around at the other two men, "but only the Seven know how long we will last."

"Who is behind these attacks," Lord Stark asked.

"Many soldiers," answered Ser Raymun. "They are led by a man, tall man. He is ruthless beyond anything I've seen. He cuts men in two. They said that he took the head off a horse with a single swing of his sword."

Lord Baelish turned to Nysa. "You know who that is don't you?"

Nysa gasped. "The mountain," she whispered as Lord Stark looked at the two of them.

"The man you describe is Ser Gregor Clegane," Lord Stark replied to Ser Raymun.

"He has been called Lord Tywin's mad dog," Lord Baelish commented, "He does as Lord Tywin commands. And may I say," he leaned towards Lord Stark, "there may be a reason why the Lannisters are upset with House Tully and the Riverlands."

"Does this Ser Gregor hold any banner or sigil to accompany him," asked Lord Stark, "perhaps he is not doing it under Lord Tywin's commands," he looked at Lord Baelish who snaked back to his chair.

"Lannister banners have been spotted at every one of these attacks," Ser Raymun snarled

"What would cause such drastic actions resulting in attacking the Riverlands," Nysa questioned.

"Drastic and bold actions, indeed," Lord Baelish agreed. "It is as brazen as attacking the Hand of the King on the streets of the Capital," he pointed out which made Nysa remember her conversation with Lord Stark.

Lord Stark waited a moment before answering.

"I cannot give you back your homes or your lives, but perhaps I can give you justice in the name of our King Robert. Because it is a call for help from the Riverlands, my dear wife's own home, I would arrest Ser Gregor myself," Lord Stark looked down to his knee. "I have seen the work that the Lannister's men have done before," his gaze turned sadly towards Nysa. "When the lions attack, they attack everything," Lord Stark turned back to the three knights. "Bring Ser Gregor to justice."

"Send me to carry it out, my Lord," Jory bowed his head.

"No," Lord Stark stood shakily. Nysa immediately went to help him. "You are to carry out the plan should I need you to," he nodded to Jory. "Harwin," he called forth one of his other guards. "Arrange for half of our guards to go to the Riverlands."

"As you command," Harwin nodded.

"Lord Beric, step forward please," he requested. The man Nysa had seen perform in the tourney came to stand before them then. Lord Stark sighed and then with confidence began speaking, "In the name of Robert, the House Baratheon - first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I charge you to bring the King's justice to the false knight, Gregor Clegane and all those who share in his crimes. I denounce him and taint him. I strip him of all ranks and titles, of all lands and holdings and sentence him to death."

"Lord Stark, may I interrupt..."

"Grand Maester Pycelle," Lord Stark turned to him, "send a raven to Casterly Rock. Lord Tywin Lannister is to come to court to answer for the crimes of his bannermen. If he does not, he will be branded as an enemy to the crown and a traitor to the Realm."

Lord Stark turned then and began walking off as the three Riverlands' knights bowed their hand and turned to exit. Nysa followed behind Lord Stark and Lord Baelish.

"A bold move, my Lord," Lord Baelish commented, "and admirable. But is it wise to yank the lion's tail? Tywin Lannister is the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms. Gold will win wars, not soldiers," he warned.

"Then how come Robert is King and not Tywin Lannister," Lord Stark asked as Lord Baelish stopped.

He grabbed Nysa's arm as they exited, "Be careful, Lady Snowflake. You best keep that bow handy for when Lord Stark will need you."

Nysa nodded before hurrying after Lord Stark.

* * *

"A traitor to the crown," Jamie snorted after reading the letter that was sent to his father. "Poor Ned Stark," he chuckled. "Brave man, terrible judgement," he noted turning towards Lord Tywin.

Tywin continued to clean out the stag on the table, wiping his hands every now and then before wiping down his knife. "Attacking him was stupid," he stated plainly at his son. Jamie studied his father but Tywin did not turn around. Instead he continued with his task as though it were more important than addressing his son. "Lannisters don't act like fools."

Jamie looked away, almost dejectedly before reminding himself that this was his father. He shouldn't have expected anything short of being reprimanded. He should have known that that summons for his appearance wasn't merely just to aid in taking Tyrion back but also to scold him. That didn't mean that he had to endure this. He wasn't a child. He was a member of the Kingsguard. Jamie opened his mouth but his father stopped him.

"You going to say something clever? Go on," his father chuckled, "say something clever."

"Catelyn Stark took my brother," Jamie defended his actions.

"Why is he still alive?"

"Tyrion?"

"Ned Stark," his father answered.

Jamie sighed. "There was a maiden."

"A maiden," Tywin questioned as his hands moved the knife across the stag's belly.

"Yes, she shot an arrow towards me. Stopped me from finishing him off," he explained.

"Why is _she_ still alive?"

Jamie gulped, knowing the truth as to why he kept the girl alive. She wasn't who people thought she was. She wasn't who she thought she was. And then the guilt that she delivered to him was swifter than any arrow she had shot that day. He looked down at his hand, the cut healing but the scar would be there. It was a small reminder but it was enough. _Amie._ He shook his head and looked up at his father. He owed a debt to that girl, more than any other person.

"It wouldn't have been clean," he went with a simple answer.

"Clean," his father chuckled, "you spend too much time worrying about what other people think of you."

"I could care less what anyone thinks of me."

His father half-turned towards him, knife still in hand. "That's what you want people to think of you," he snarled before turning back.

Jamie shook his head. "It's the truth."

"Then you're in denial. When you hear them whispering 'Kingslayer' behind your back, doesn't it bother you?"

"Of course, it bothers me," he bit out.

"And that is why the maiden with the bow still lives, isn't it," Tywin looked over his shoulder at his son. "She shouted in the courtyard, in front of a brothel where whores and lowlifes congregate," he spat out. "She called down evil upon you in front of people like that? Ha! A Lion doesn't concern himself with the opinions of the sheep."

Jamie looked away. She is not a sheep.

"I suppose I should be grateful that your valiantly got in the way of your recklessness," Tywin said as though it were a compliment but Jamie felt more reprimanded for it. "I'm giving you half of our forces," Tywin instructed then, pausing in his work to look over at Jamie, "thirty-thousand men. You will bring them to Catelyn Stark's girlhood home and remind her that Lannisters pay their debts. This time you will deal with men, warriors," he skinned the stag, "instead of little girls with bows."

"I didn't realize you placed such a high value on my brother's life," Jamie retorted before he could stop himself.

"He's a Lannister," his father laughed, shaking his head. "He might be the lowest of the Lannisters but he's one of us. And every day that he remains a prisoner, the less our name commands respect."

"So, the lion does concern himself with the op..."

"No, that's not an opinion," Tywin raised his voice, "it's a fact. If another House takes one of our own and holds him captive without impunity, we are no longer a House to be feared." There was that feeling again - that feeling that Jamie was being mocked as though he were a child. Tywin looked towards him and he nodded slightly. "Your mother is dead. Before long, I will be dead," he returned to his work. "And you and your brother and your sister and all her children," he listed, "all of us dead, all of us rotting in the ground. It's the family name that lives on. It's all that lives on. Not your personal glory," he grunted as he sliced through the stag, "not your honor, not family. Do you understand?"

Jamie felt like he was eight name-days old and his father was forcing him to endure lessons from the Maester. He wished at that moment he was like Tyrion and did have a clever saying to retort to his father. Instead he did as he was told. He simply nodded his head.

Tywin stopped and began cleaning his hands. "You are blessed with abilities few men possess. You're blessed to belong to one of the most powerful families in the Kingdoms. And you're still blessed with youth," he said as Jamie watched him. "And what have you done with these blessings, hm? You served as a glorified body-guard for two Kings," Tywin looked out of the tent, "one a madman, the other a drunk."

There was a great honor to be had from serving as Kingsguard but the way his father put it made him feel insignificant.

"The future of our family will be determined in these next few months," Tywin walked to stand in front of Jamie. "We could establish a dynasty that would last a thousand years or we could collapse into nothing, as the Targaryens did."

As you made them, Jamie looked down. _Amie._

Tywin placed a hand on his son's face, causing him to look up. "I need you to become the man you were always meant to be. Not next year, not tomorrow, now," he whispered.

Jamie considered his father's eyes and saw a brief resemblance of the father that he once was back in Casterly Rock - hard but devoted to his family. That's all that they had ever wanted after their mother had passed - acknowledgement from their father. And now it looked like he was receiving it. Jamie gave his father a small nod. Tywin tapped Jamie's cheek once more before turning away.

He too made his way out of the tent.

"And Jamie," Tywin called out to his son. Jamie turned slowly to face him. "I've instructed Cersei to take care of the problem you left behind in King's Landing. The next time a maiden speaks out against you, make sure it's the last thing she ever says."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Forgive me, Lord Stark," Nysa said softly as he sat at the table.

Ned smiled at her.

"I am returning at a most unfortunate hour."

"It is quite alright," he told her.

"Do you need some wine," she walked towards the pitcher.

"Water," he answered.

Nysa began to pour the water and brought the cup towards him. She had that saddened look on her face again. She had been wearing that expression often and Ned did not like it. He felt guilty for subjecting her to this type of southern hospitality. He remembered the letter he had wrote earlier and thought that perhaps he should have left her back in Winterfell.

"Were you visiting with your brother?"

A guilty expression appeared on her face causing Ned to frown. "I was out for a walk with a knight," she attempted to smile.

Ned tilted his head, knowing that she had denied a walk with two different knights. On both occasions, she informed Sansa that she did not want rumor to spread. The gossipers at court could be rather cruel and might conjure up some tale. Arya had jested immediately that there was a young Lord back in the North that Nysa would rather enjoy taking night walks with - which had begun another tale.

"And what is different about this knight that you permitted him to have your attention," he asked.

"He is handsome and gallant," she plastered a false smile this time on her face causing him to burst out in laughter. "Well, some of them are."

It only made Ned laugh more. He knew her too well. She had stated she delighted talking to a few of the knights here but many of them felt entitled to take certain liberties with her and she had been on guard with many of them. She'd never go walking during such a late hour in their company.

"But you were not with any of them, were you?" Nysa shook her head. "Then, where were you," he asked. "I am not questioning you in the hopes of punishing you, Nysa. You are a young woman, of age to become betrothed. You are not a child so there is no need to hide."

Nysa sighed. "My presence was requested by the Queen."

"The Queen," Ned startled for a moment.

"She wanted to talk of Sansa's wedding, my Lord."

"Sansa's wedding," he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, to Prince Joffrey. She asked me about Sansa's favorites and was planning on getting her a gift as a surprise," she answered quickly.

Too quickly, Ned thought. He narrowed his eyes for a moment before turning away. He'd hear the truth sooner or later.

"Do you need any help with lineages, my Lord?" He turned back to her to see her eyes were set upon the book he was reading. "I was very good with my lessons, bested Jon and Robb a few times."

Ned chuckled. "I was merely inquiring about something that concerned me," he closed the books. "But since you have a well based knowledge of Houses, perhaps you can help me with a few items of concern that I had regarding the North?" She smiled eagerly. "Do you remember Greenhall from your lessons?"

Nysa nodded. "It is a holdfast alongside the Kingsroad - not far from Winterfell - that sits unoccupied. Sometimes Jory will ride out there to ensure the delivery of goods."

"Can you name other holdfasts and settlements that are unoccupied?"

Her eyes looked away for a moment before nodding. "There is Long Hall that sits near Long Lake," she smiled knowing that was the easiest for her to remember. "The village is small there but the people are kind. I stayed there twice before journeying back to Winterfell. The Amber Tower rests near Karhold. I rode there once with Torrhen," she blushed. "There is also Foothill, Maidenspass and Queenscrown."

"And where do they sit?"

"They rest in the Gift," she paused. "I heard that you were planning on giving a few settlements in the Gift to certain Lords to raise a family and protect the lands there from the wildling raids."

"There were a few I considered. One of them, I wanted Jon to take."

Nysa looked smiled sadly. That may have made Jon stay but now they would never know.

"Then he announced he desired to join the Wall," Ned sighed. "I wanted him to stay as well but," he shook his head. "He was determined that he would take the black. Another one I thought of was a certain young Lord who cannot inherit his father's castle since he has two older brothers," he began as Nysa bit her lip from smiling. "I would give his bride the land as a wedding gift. They could raise a family there. Greenhall is still small but I think that they would be able to manage it."

"And who is this fortunate young woman?"

He took Nysa's hands in his, "It is something that I wanted you to have should your Lord Uncle agree to Lord Rickard's proposal."

"Greenhall," she smiled widely.

"Yes, Greenhall," he nodded. "I would have preferred establishing the young Karstark at Foothill. It is close to the Bay of Seals. And I believe he would sufficiently protect any raids from venturing further south. But your brother protested to placing you so far away from him."

Nysa rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he did."

"Therefore, I have prepared a letter for you to give to Lord Karstark."

"So, I am betrothed?"

"If he should accept the terms, then yes. Besides rebuilding Greenhall and its lands, I have decided to give you one hundred men when you wed."

"One hundred," she exclaimed. "Lord Stark that is too much. I could not possibly..."

"Your brother insisted and we have the numbers," he interjected. "I am sure Lord Karstark will give Torrhen some men as well to help with the holdfast. There is some coin that your Uncle gave over the years that should be enough for a brand-new start. You could purchase supplies and builders, farmers and stock with it."

"This is truly generous," she smiled. "I appreciate it, Lord Stark. Truly I do."

"You have done much for my family. You and your brother are fiercely loyal. And in times like these it is hard to find loyalty. When it is found, it should be rewarded."

"I am not loyal to seek selfish gain."

"I know you are not. And because of the type of person you are, it has convinced me that you should be given this and more as a wedding gift. I will look for the letter, ah yes," he pulled it out from under the book. "Give this to Lord Karstark when you return home."

"You are sending me back to Winterfell? Have I done something wrong?"

"You have not committed any wrong," he shook his head. "I am sending you all back," he urged Nysa to sit at seeing the confusion on her face and she did. "I already spoke with your brother and some of the guards. I am waiting for my daughters to arrive," he nodded towards their door.

"Is this 'the plan' you referred to in the throne room with my brother," asked Nysa.

"Aye, it is. You have seen the tension that has been created these past days. Lady Catelyn is holding Lord Tyrion as hostage, Ser Jamie and I have fought in the yard. And because of this, Lord Tywin marches on the Riverlands. I may have gained the King's good favor once again but who is to say that I will remain there."

"You must not lose hope, Lord Stark. You and the King are close friends. He respects you and your decisions. If I recall correctly during our stay at Darry, the King said that if not for you he would not have the crown. He owes you a huge debt, he said so himself. He would not dismiss you so easily."

"If only I could hold the rest of men to that type of honor. Kings Landing is not a place to find honorable men," Ned snorted.

"No, it is not," Nysa grimaced. "There are a few who are admirable but I would not start here, either. I confess I am glad to be rid of this place. I pray I never have to come here again."

Ned chuckled. "Odd that you would say that since you were born here."

"I was born in Kings Landing," her voice rang with hope. "So, my mother is from the Crownlands? You introduced me to Lord Mallery and a Lord Buckwell. Is one of them my Uncle? Have you received his approval? Is that why you are sending out terms for a betrothal? Am I really to wed someone I choose rather than a southern Lord?"

"Nysa..."

"Or maybe he wishes for me to marry a knight? Please do not say that it is Ser Lucion," she made a disgusted face. "I would not want to wed a Lannister!"

Ned held back a smile and shook his head. Nysa continued to rattle on, excited about the thought of finally meeting her kin. She could obtain the answers to questions that she's been asking her entire life, questions that others have been asking her entire life. She would know what House her mother came from. Oh, she had read about the other Houses in books but to see them all up close, see their banners, their colors, the various Lords and Ladies.

"Nysa," Lord Stark stopped her. "Your mother is not from here and the Lords that you have met are not your Uncle."

"Oh," she replied softly in disappointment.

"I did promise you that you would meet him while you were here. I wrote to him not long after we arrived and informed him that it was dangerous to meet you in King's Landing. I know that you were looking forward to being introduced but it is still not safe."

"I understand," she nodded.

"You are a good girl, Nysa. After witnessing the tirade of my two daughters recently, I must say that at least Winterfell has produced one young woman with a good head on her shoulders," he smiled. "I had been hopeful that my son would ask for your hand before we left to come here," he told her honestly.

Shock displayed on her face. "But Robb is your heir. He will be Lord of Winterfell one day," she shook her head. "Would not you and Lady Catelyn want someone more..."

"We would want someone like you, Nysa," he smiled softly. "You are an intelligent and kind person. My wife and I have spoken about it. You know the people there. You understand the concerns of the other Houses in the North. You'd make a fine Lady of House Stark. But as you know, my son remained quiet on the matter."

Nysa wanted to believe Lord Stark. There was no reason for her not to. But her time spent in King's Landing had changed her perception of things. "I am a bastard and Robb is a first-born son," she shook her head. "I am surprised that other Lords have considered wedding their sons to me."

"I am not," he replied honestly. "Once they see the terms for your betrothal to Torrhen Karstark, they will know."

"Know what exactly," Nysa questioned at the ominous tone in Lord Stark's voice.

He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. His eyes were haunted. "If people knew," he paused and turned back to her. "There are too many ears here, I'm sure you know that." Nysa nodded, understanding that she would still not be getting the full scope of it all. "After the war, I knew that a Southern maid would not be appreciated in the North. I made the decision to raise you among my own. In truth, I had been praying that by sending you to assist Lady Glover, Lady Karstark and Lady Umber that you would earn the respect of their Houses, the respect of the North. They are great Houses."

"They are, my Lord," she agreed.

"I tried to do the same with Jon as well but after that incident at the Dreadfort, it seemed to detract from the good he had to offer. And Lord Bolton..."

"Lord Bolton should learn to control his son," Nysa spat out. "I will not wed Ramsay. Forgive me Lord Stark but that is one thing that I find I will protest with every fiber of my being."

"There is no need for that," he smiled, "I would not subject the daughter of a Lannister to such a union." Nysa bit her bottom lip to hide her smile. "There is more to you and Jon than your name. I wanted the Northern Houses to see it. I wanted you to come here and see the court, the other Houses here in the South. I wanted them to see _you_. I also wanted them to see Jon," he sighed heavily before looking back at her. "If the other Houses hadn't taken an interest in you, then I would have allowed Robb to act on his heart's desire."

"I know there were feelings developing between Robb and I but," she sighed, "it could never blossom into anything."

"It could have," Lord Stark assured her. "I just wanted my son to tell me, confirm my suspicions. I would have granted it."

Nysa smiled and then dismissed it. "But he'd never admit to wanting a bastard girl. I am below him. I always will be." She took his hand to interrupt him. "Lord Stark you are kind but you do not need to flatter me with false words. I may be an acknowledged bastard but I am still a bastard. My mother may have been a Lady but that does not mean that I am one. Robb knows this. That is why he has not said anything. He would not wish to wed a girl such as me."

"You think so little of my son?"

"No, I think too much of him and that is why I know he is above joining himself with someone like me. I cannot offer him anything. And look at what I have now, it is only through your generosity that I have bestowed with such treasures. Your son deserves someone who is worthy. I understand why he neglected to tell you," Nysa stated.

Ned didn't want to admit it but perhaps the girl was torn between her passion for Torrhen Karstark and her affection for his son. Catelyn told him that the girl was confused about Robb before Torrhen had made his presence known in Winterfell. And even before they left, she was uncertain of where she stood with Robb. Ned had to admit that his son probably debated about wedding a 'Snow'. Robb probably thought all the things that Nysa had stated. Maybe he was embarrassed. Whatever was adding to Robb's silence on the matter, only confused Nysa more and it caused Ned to feel guilty for not speaking to his son on the topic more thoroughly before he left.

"It has only served to remind me of my place. And I have no right to desire myself equal to Robb or anyone of noble birth. The Queen reminded so just now."

"I thought you said that the two of you were discussing Sansa's wedding." Nysa looked away with a guilty expression. "What did you two truly speak of?"

"This was the second time that she called me to her chambers," he watched the girl rub her arms nervously. "The first time she asked me as to the reason why I was here in King's Landing. She revealed that she knew about Bran and Rickon's letters. And that I also had to watch the things I say."

"And this meeting," he inquired.

"She spoke all sorts of things," Nysa shook her head, "some of it did not make sense. Earlier we talked about a game and staying one move ahead. I didn't know what that meant but she informed me that she had someone on her side."

"Had someone," Ned questioned.

Nysa nodded. "Yes, she spoke about Sansa. Once when I had luncheon with the two of them, the Queen told Sansa that if the Prince did not find favor in her then women like me would turn him away from her. Tonight, she spoke about how the Prince had reconciled with Sansa and that I could not turn him away as I did with her brother, Jamie."

Ned tilted his head. "I often wondered how it is that you were permitted to walk away alive." Nysa's face paled then. "Do not get me wrong, it is just that I am trying to see..."

"It is alright, Lord Stark. I do not know why either. But I have a feeling that," she paused and looked down.

"Go on," he urged.

"I have a feeling that something big is about to happen. I don't want to talk about war but it feels like it will lead to it. Bran was pushed out a window," she began as Lord Stark narrowed his eyes, "then he was attacked by someone. Lady Catelyn has taken Lord Tyrion hostage, believing that it was him."

"You doubt Lord Tyrion's guilt?"

Nysa nodded. "I don't think he had anything to do with it. I believe that someone wanted Lady Catelyn to think that it was Lord Tyrion."

Ned turned away and thought about it for a moment. He did not trust Lord Baelish at first either, especially since his motives for helping were due to his so-called 'love'. "Lord Baelish informed Lady Catelyn that it was Tyrion Lannister."

"But..."

"I did not trust him either. But my wife did, Nysa," he explained. "And I trust my wife," he concluded. "I do not doubt that the Lannisters had some sort of part in Bran's situation."

"I do not doubt that either," Nysa shook her head. "I was trying to go against you and your wife either, Lord Stark. I..."

He smiled and shook his head. "It is alright, Nysa. As I said earlier, I'm not seeking to punish you. It is a good thing to examine this situation from all angles. Lord Tyrion went on the hunt with us. But..." he paused. "Who was left behind?"

Nysa bit her lip and looked down. "He claimed to have nothing to do with the attack but," she sighed. She almost felt guilty for pointing him out, especially after that decent conversation they had. "Ser Jamie had stayed behind from the hunt," Nysa finished. "It was so that he could guard the Queen or so he claimed," she reminded him, "Jory and a few of the guards had asked about everyone's whereabouts during the hunt. I remember him asking me as well, what I was doing at the time. I was with Arya," she shook her head. "I was gathering herbs for treatments just in case someone should have injured themselves during the hunt. Arya was teaching Nymeria something as we walked in the woods."

"It is a confusing matter, indeed," Ned noted. "A part of me feels as though I should never have come here. I should have listened to my wife when she said to stay back." He sighed heavily and then looked towards Nysa. "That is even more reason why I need you to go back to Winterfell. I do not trust the lions with the safety of my family and that includes you and your brother among them."

"When do we leave?"

"I'm hoping to arrange for something tomorrow, the quicker the better," he answered. "This time I won't let anything keep you all back. It has become too dangerous. There is a ship leaving during midday. Pack your things tonight but do so quietly," he cautioned. "After I speak with my daughters, help them as well. Then Jory will be overseeing that you all get home safely after that."

"But what about you?"

"I must ask that if something should happen, that you not look back," Ned warned her.

"But Lord Stark..."

"House Cassel has served House Stark faithfully and you must help your brother continue to do so. If there is trouble you will take Arya and Sansa and leave with your brother's guards."

"Lord Stark, I cannot leave you behind," her eyes began to water.

"You must, Nysa. Promise me that you will be safe, that you will ensure my daughters are safe," he moved to the table where he was sitting and pulled out three sealed letters. "One is for Lord Rickard Karstark, the second is for Lord Howland Reed and the third you must deliver to Lady Catelyn." She nodded and took them with a shaky hand. "I do not trust to send it through the crown's ravens. It is important," he placed one hand on them and the other on her shoulder, "it is highly important that you promise me to leave King's Landing should danger present itself. Arya may insist on returning for me, but do not let her. Do not stay back yourself. I've already informed your brother earlier. You all must leave."

Nysa bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. By now the tears had begun falling. Lord Stark pulled her into his arms, giving her a brief hug before releasing her and setting her aright.

"There are many things that I regret that I did during the war," he smiled, "but you are not one of them. I have raised you among my own. I helped Jory look after you. Repay my kindness with obedience, Nysa. Leave King's Landing with Jory and my daughters," he ordered.

"I will, Lord Stark."

"Father," a knock sounded on the door then. It was Arya. Nysa went to open the door. Sansa was there as well and both their faces showed concern.

"Please, sit," he urged his two daughters to do so. "Stay here, Nysa," he caught the young woman's attention before she attempted to leave. He saw her lift her sleeve to quickly wipe away the wetness on her face. She stood behind the two girls and looked towards the floor. He knew it was a hard command to follow, but she'd do it. He got up and slowly went towards his daughters. "I'm sending you both back to Winterfell."

"What?"

Of course, it would be his eldest who would protest. "Listen," he began.

"What about Joffrey?

"Are you dying because of your leg? Is that why you're sending us home," Arya looked her father over.

"What," he proclaimed before shaking his head, "no."

"Please father, please don't," Sansa pleaded.

"You can't. I've got my lessons with Syrio," Arya interjected. He looked up towards Nysa hoping that she would have been of help to him. "I'm finally getting good," his daughter explained.

"This isn't a punishment. I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety," Ned replied.

"Can I take Syrio back with us?"

"Who cares about your stupid dancing teacher," Sansa glared at her sister before turning back to him. "I can't go!"

Ned looked up at Nysa who finally stepped forward. "Your mother misses you, Sansa," Nysa stated. "She wishes to see you. Bran and Rickon," she named, "even Robb, they all miss you. We've been away for months now. I think that you are at that age where you need your mother."

"I will have one soon enough, when I wed Prince Joffrey," Sansa turned to her. "Why aren't you helping me? Why aren't you telling father that I should stay?"

"Sansa," Nysa sighed, "Prince Joffrey has been avoiding you since the incident at..."

"Yes, well whose fault was that," Sansa stood up and glared at her. "If you had been watching Arya and listening to the orders of your Lord as a good bastard ought to then perhaps none of that would have happened!"

"Sansa," Ned scolded.

"Why am I even speaking to you," she narrowed her eyes at Nysa, "you don't understand what it's like to be in love!"

"And you think that is how someone in love treats you," Nysa questioned. "If Prince Joffrey truly felt that way about you, don't you think he would have comforted you or at least protested his mother's orders about Lady?"

"He can't go against his mother, the Queen!"

"Why are you taking her side, Sansa? She gave the order."

"She had to protect Prince Joffrey," Sansa excused.

"At the expense of causing you suffering," Nysa questioned. "A mother knows how to comfort, not destroy."

"Well, you have no mother, so how would you know," Sansa sassed causing Nysa to step back slightly. It was a cruel statement and it broke Nysa's heart to hear Sansa say it. "You wouldn't understand Joffrey's position or mine. He had to obey his mother and as his betrothed, I must follow him. You can't comprehend what it's like to be betrothed! I do! I am the one who is to become Queen. Girls like you don't get married, that's why Robb never asked for your hand!"

"Sansa, that's enough," Ned barked as Sansa turned back to her father.

Nysa gripped her chest and tried to calm herself down. Arya looked at her with concern. "Sansa, you had no right," Arya pushed her sister.

"It's true! Joffrey came to me today, father," Sansa began. "He apologized and called me 'his Lady'. And I am meant to be his Queen and have his babies," her voice was pleading.

Arya groaned in disgust, "Seven hells!"

It only made Nysa feel sickened at the thought that that was what Queen Cersei had meant. Joffrey did go and sweet talk Sansa somehow. And what was worst was that they somehow made it look as though Nysa were against her, as though everything that happened was Nysa's fault. She shook her head and tried not to concentrate on Sansa's words about love, marriage, Robb and of course her status as a bastard. Sansa had never spoke against her like that. And she knew, she knew instantly that the Queen had somehow poisoned Sansa's mind.

"When you're old enough," Lord Stark began, "I'll make you a match with someone who is worthy of you. Someone who is brave," he began to list things the opposite of Joffrey, hoping his daughter could see reason, "gentle and strong."

"I don't want someone brave and gentle and strong," Sansa proclaimed, "I want him!"

Arya held back a snicker and even then, Nysa had to admit that Sansa's foolishness was getting out of hand. Her eyes caught Lord Stark's then who also tried to hide back a smirk.

"He'll be the greatest King that ever was, a golden lion," she continued, "and I'll give him sons with beautiful, blonde hair."

"The lion is not his sigil, idiot," Arya exclaimed as Nysa's face then smiled. "He's a stag, like his father."

"I'm glad you remembered something from your lessons," Nysa teased Arya as she stuck her tongue out.

"Joffrey is not like his father. He's nothing like that old, drunk King," Sansa shook her head and looked back at her father.

It was then that Nysa did as well to see that all color seemed to disappear from Lord Stark's face. "Lord Stark?"

"Nysa, inform Septa Mordane of the plans," he instructed her. "Go on, girls," he turned around, leaving the three of them baffled. "Start packing your things."

"What," Sansa cried.

"Something is wrong, isn't it," Arya asked Nysa quietly as she nodded her head. "Come on," Arya grabbed her sister's hand and began dragging her out.

"But it's not fair! Nysa, tell father it's not fair!"

"Let's go, Sansa," Nysa pushed her lightly out the door.

* * *

Nysa walked towards the room where Lord Stark had met with Ser Barristan and Jory. She knew she was not privy to the meeting. However, there was currently a Lannister guard requesting to see Ser Barristan and Lord Stark. She looked up at the guard and noticed that he didn't sneer or anything. It looked like he was rather scared of being here in the Hand's tower.

She knocked on the door and waited as Jory answered. "There's a guard out here to see Lord Stark and Ser Barristan."

Jory narrowed his eyes at her before looking past her shoulder. He then nodded slowly and went to shut the door.

"I'm sure they'll be right out," Nysa looked over at the guard.

Quickly the doors opened and Ser Barristan stepped out, explaining that he would accompany the guard back to the throne room but Lord Stark would be joining us in a moment.

"Nysa?"

"Yes, Lord Stark," she turned to him.

Ser Barristan, her brother and the other guard were down the hall by now.

"I wish to discuss other matters with you." She nodded. "I have written to your Lord Uncle who will come for you when the time is right. I ask that when he does, you remember everything that you were taught. Not only the graciousness of the North but also the conniving of the court," he gestured around them. "You will need both."

"What of my betrothal?"

"I have informed him that I have given my consent. Both you and Torrhen care deeply for one another. I'm sure there is no need to subject you to an arranged marriage as so many are. We only need for Lord Karstark to accept the terms. Be wary though, your Uncle may object and that is where I need to you remember the North, remember where you were raised."

Nysa nodded again.

"Be careful who you trust, who you respect, who you place in high regard," he warned. "You know who are your friends and you know those who are not. I swore an oath to protect you and have done my best up until now. You must make your own path now, Nysa."

"Of course, Lord Stark."

"That's a good girl," he smiled. "I believe your father and mother would be proud of you."

"Was my mother Lady Ashara?" Lord Stark frowned then. "Are the rumors about her true?" Lord Stark sighed and sat back on his chair. "Forgive me, my Lord. It was not my place to ask," she made her way to the door.

"I was not in love with Lady Ashara," Lord Stark stated. Nysa looked back over her shoulder at him. "I thought her pretty. I liked her smile. And at the time, my brother Brandon was betrothed to Catelyn." She moved away from the door and closed it gently, eager to listen to his story. "We met at a tourney, much like the one that the King had. And at the feast that was held, I danced with her - much like the knights who danced with you. She called me handsome and smiled at me. But I was too shy to ask anything else of her. I guess in a way, Robb inherited that trait from me," he looked at Nysa and then sighed.

"What became of the Lady?"

"After that feast, it was known that the Lady did come to be with child. And though many thought it was me, it was not. I reserved my honor for another, even more beautiful than her." Nysa furrowed her eyebrows causing Lord Stark to chuckle. "I speak of my wife, Lady Catelyn."

"I know that you love her, Lord Stark. Anyone who has seen the two of you would be a fool to not notice it."

"In the beginning my feelings for my wife could not be characterized as love, not at all. She was beautiful and lovely, everything a proper Lady should be. I had never met someone like her before. She did not flirt as Lady Ashara had. No," he shook his head and smiled softly, "she held that in place for the one she would wed and I felt spiteful knowing that at first it would not have been me. I was the second-born son. She belonged to my brother, everything to my brother."

Nysa could see the slight grief that still lingered in his eyes as Lord Stark spoke of his deceased brother.

"When I was told that I should wed her, I was afraid that I could never measure up to him. I feared that she still loved Brandon. There were times, even when we were at Winterfell that I felt that way. I was always aspiring to measure up to my brother."

"But the two of you do love one another," she insisted.

"Aye, we do. I think while away from her, during the war, I began to feel that way. It only cemented itself further when I held our son for the first time. When Catelyn returned her love, I felt undeserving of it. She was worthy of a fierce fighter like Brandon."

"Lord Stark you must not degrade yourself like this."

"I am merely sharing with you what most likely ails my son," he looked towards her. "Brandon was charming and could easily win the smiles of maids everywhere he went. But not I. I lived in his shadow and felt that I still did even long after his death. It is a challenging thing for a man to cope with by constantly being compared to another. Remember that," he nodded to her, "especially when dealing with my son."

"Lord Stark if I am betrothed to..."

"Do you think it will be easy for Robb to see you with Torrhen?" She shook her head. "It was not easy for me to imagine my brother in my place next to my wife. There were times that I thought she would have wanted him there instead of me. But Catelyn never did compare us. She handled the situation better than anyone else and has been the perfect Lady for Winterfell and for me. I would never dishonor her," he said as Nysa narrowed her eyes for a moment, trying to understand why Lord Stark was telling her this. "As for Lady Ashara, she was merely a maid that I had danced with and nothing more."

"Why do they say that I resemble her?"

"Perhaps it is your eyes and dark hair," he answered simply.

"So, she is not Jon's mother either since the two of you did not," she dared to ask.

Lord Stark shook his head. "No. Though many a man were victim to her beauty, I did not indulge in it. Your father met her also but he did not look her way. I promised Jon that we would speak of his mother when I returned North but should everything not go according to plan, you must write to him, tell him that his mother was of noble-birth. She loved to ride and fight. She would be proud of the type of man he has become. And like you, he has an inheritance waiting for him. Remember the letters you have?"

"Yes."

"One of them is for Lady Catelyn. She will know what to do," he nodded.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter."

Lord Baelish stepped in and Nysa had to turn away to avoid an unladylike snort at the man's presence. "Everything is set, Lord Stark," Lord Baelish said.

"Remember what you've been told, Nysa," Lord Stark said as she helped him to stand. He limped his way towards Lord Baelish who cast a look at Nysa.

"Will the Lady not be joining us today?"

"No," he shook his head. "Remember," Lord Stark called out to Nysa, "remember everything."

* * *

Jory had just deposited his sister's trunk in the wagon when he heard shouting from down the street. His head whipped around to see several Lannister guards riding quickly towards them.

"What is the meaning of this," Vayon asked but no one answered him. Instead a guard dismounted quickly and plunged a sword into Vayon's stomach.

Jory hurried and withdrew his sword, fighting off the other guards. He had fought Lannister guardsmen before. He and Wyl were able to contain quite a few of them. Someone had tried to move Vayon Poole into the back of the wagon but another guard jumped up and slashed his throat. Jory was just about to climb onto the wagon when the Lannister guard dropped his sword from his hand. He watched as the guard coughed and blood began to drip from his mouth before he fell forward and out of the wagon.

Whipping his head around, Jory stopped and looked to see his sister standing there with the bow in her hand. She quickly reached back to grab another arrow and walked out of the entryway slowly, observing for any other guards that would happen to come out.

"Anyone injured," Jory asked as he surveyed his fellow guards.

"None," Desmond grunted before kicking a Lannister guard, "just them."

"Hurry up and get the girls," Jory instructed his sister. "There will be more men."

It was then that Arya came running out. "Nysa," she shouted and crashed into Nysa, "the guards, they're fighting with Syrio! We must go back! We have," Arya stopped and looked around. "What is happening?"

"There are guards in the tower," Wyl asked Arya, instead of answering her.

"Yes," she nodded. "I was about to go with them. They said father sent them but then," Arya shook her head, "Syrio reminded me that father would not have sent Lannister men to fetch me."

"They said your father sent them," Jory questioned to which Arya nodded. "How many of them were there?"

"I do not remember, six maybe. But Ser Meryn Trant was there, demanding that he be allowed to take me. I think," she shook her head, "I think that he killed Syrio. We have to go back and get him!"

"I'll go," Nysa told her.

"No, you won't," Jory replied.

"You told me to get the girls. Sansa is still in there."

"Let's move this back inside," Cayn told them. "If more guards come, then we will not want it to look as though we are still alive."

"The guards are already here," Desmond added, "up in the tower."

"Syrio fought some of them," Arya protested.

"We'll have to forget about the wagon," Wyl looked at the cart before turning back.

"We can't just leave him," Nysa gestured towards Vayon Poole.

"Remember what Lord Stark told us," Jory grabbed her arm. "We can't look back. We need to get out of the City!"

"But..."

Jory shook his sister. "They know that we're leaving. Why do you think they sent men to kill us? The Queen probably sent them."

"Lord Stark is in danger, then," Nysa protested.

"What did he tell you, Nysa? Remember what he told us," his grip on her shoulders tightened. "We need to get out of here. If we linger any longer, who knows what will happen?"

"Lady Sansa," one of the guards reminded them.

"If we ride out on horseback, it'll be too suspicious right now. The less we carry, the less there is to slow us down." Nysa's bottom lip began to tremble at how quickly they had to change plans. "Get Lady Sansa and do not worry about our fallen. They'll bury our dead."

"They'll put them on spikes and you know it!"

"Go and get Sansa," he told her angrily, pushing her back slightly.

Arya jumped onto the wagon and began rummaging through her trunk. She had just pulled out her sword and tied it to her side. "I know a way we can get out of the walls undetected."

Arya led Jory and the others inside the stable where they would wait for Nysa to come down with Sansa. A few feet inside and she saw Septa Mordane being led away. Their eyes caught and she almost began to cry as Septa Mordane shook her head slightly. Their Septa's mouth moved, whispering something that Nysa tried to pick up. She watched again, retreating towards the shadows as one of the guards turned to her direction.

"Sansa," Nysa whispered and the Septa smiled lightly and pushed the guard next to her. The second guard who had turned to look at Nysa's direction, returned to the Septa. They started to leave the tower again, giving Nysa the opportunity to look for Sansa.

She hurried up towards the steps and that's when she saw Ser Meryn. She lifted her bow and let her arrow fly. He groaned, falling to his knees, his hand gripping his thigh.

"You fucking whore," he snarled.

Nysa notched another arrow and hurried down another stairway, leaving behind Ser Meryn to curse and shout at her. She had to find Sansa. Nysa moved through the hallways, navigating around until she came to Sansa's chambers. She was being dragged away by the Hound. He spotted her. In the same moment that she lifted her bow, the Hound pulled Sansa in front of him.

"Drop the bow, girl," the Hound ordered.

"Release Lady Sansa," Nysa countered.

"I do not take your orders from little girls."

"No," she smiled, "you take your orders from little boys."

"You do not speak that way of the King."

"You are mishandling the betrothed of said King," Nysa took a step closer towards him. "Release her and I'll drop my bow," she lied, knowing that she had her brother's dagger hidden under her skirts. She'd give the Hound a scar on the other side of his face.

"Alright," the Hound placed Sansa in front of him but slowly let her walk towards Nysa.

"Nysa," Sansa shouted just as she lowered her bow.

A force pushed Nysa forward, causing her to collapse to her knees. She turned around to see Ser Meryn limping forward. He picked her up by her hair and threw her against the wall.

"No," Sansa screamed and Nysa turned to see that the Hound had grabbed her again.

"Stark guards are outside," Nysa strained as she kicked out her feet. "All of your guards are dead. The two of you won't make it far."

"You think I'm scared of a little Northman force," Ser Meryn scoffed.

"You should be," Nysa narrowed her eyes at him before hitting his throat with her fist. He dropped her and that's when Nysa grabbed her brother's dagger and stabbed Ser Meryn's other thigh - just as Jory told her. She pushed past him, grabbing a nearby torch and flying it towards the Hound. "Run to the stables Sansa," she urged as the girl took off.

Nysa hurried after her, slinging the bow over her shoulder and running with a tight grasp on Jory's dagger back towards the stable. She just turned the corner when a sharp pain shot through her back.

"Nysa?"

"Go! Keep running, Sansa!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Robb looked up at Maester Luwin entering. He sighed happily. It was probably another letter from Nysa. Though he followed his mother's orders and did not respond, he treasured hearing news from her. Though the last letter about his father was unsettling, he liked that she corresponded with him. Despite whatever it was she was going through, she had taken the time to offer him words of encouragement. He knew that she needed it just as much as he did and that fact alone - that she was writing to him, forgetting about her own comfort to offer it to him - gave him strength, courage and most importantly it gave him hope.

Theon snickered beside him, knowing full well that Robb enjoyed receiving letters from Nysa. "Is the letter for me this time, Maester," Theon teased, shaking his head. "Perhaps she's grown bored of you, Stark."

Robb smiled, regardless of the teasing and opened the letter.

"So, what is it, Stark," Theon questioned after some time, "did she find a Southern Lord to tickle her fancy?"

Robb wordlessly handed the letter to Maester Luwin and felt his stomach drop.

"What's going on?"

"I should have gone South when you told me," Robb turned to Theon, "my father has been arrested."

"Under what charges," Theon narrowed his eyes.

"Treason," he replied.

"Is that what Nysa is saying?"

"That is what Sansa is saying," Robb answered before turning towards Maester Luwin. "How can we be sure that Sansa wrote this?"

"It is your sister's hand," Maester Luwin nodded, showing the letter to the young Greyjoy.

"It has no word of Arya or Nysa," Theon scanned the letter, "or the rest of them."

Maester Luwin sighed, "Because those are the Queen's words. You're summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new King."

"Joffrey put my father in chains," Robb snarled, "and now he wants his ass kissed?"

"This is a royal command, my Lord," Maester Luwin said slowly. "If you should refuse..."

"I'll not refuse," Robb stated. "His Grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing," Robb took the letter from Theon, held it in his fist before handing it to Maester Luwin, "but I won't be going alone. Call the banners," he instructed as Theon nodded his head in approval.

"All of them," Maester Luwin asked.

"They've always wanted to defend my father, have they not," Robb questioned as the Maester nodded.

"They have," he answered.

"Then we'll see what their words are worth," Robb said.

* * *

"Bring me a horn of ale, Snow. Pour one for yourself," the Lord Commander instructed Jon after he walked in.

He was holding a letter - a letter that Jon knew came from King's Landing. He thought immediately about his father, his sister and Nysa. It could have been news from Yoren. Jon knew that there were new recruits coming to the Wall. It could have been a number of things.

"The King is dead," he announced as Jon paused.

He continued to pour the ale and then handed it to the Commander. "Is there any word of my father?"

"Just this," he held up the letter. "Lord Stark has been charged with treason. They say that he conspired with Robert's brothers to deny the throne to Prince Joffrey."

Jon reached for the letter and looked over the words. He shook his head. His father would never do such a thing. He already knew that this was bad - he just did not think it was this bad. There in letter his eyes saw the word treason, traitor to the Crown and Lord Stark's name - his father's name. This couldn't be true. He thought quickly back to Nysa's letters. The last thing she spoke to him about was that there was a disagreement between his father and Ser Jamie Lannister. Some guards had been murdered and that was all that she could say on the matter.

 _Someone has been reading our letters. It's not safe anymore._

He remembered her words and immediately went to stand up. They were in danger. If his father was being charged with treason, then there was nothing that would save Nysa and Arya now. Something had to be done, something had to be done quickly.

"I hope you're not thinking about doing something stupid," the Commander warned. "Your duty lies here now."

"My sisters are still in King's Landing."

"I'm sure they'll be," he paused and sighed, "they'll be treated gently."

Jon pushed the door open and left the Commander's room, hurrying towards the top of the Wall. He past several of the Night's Watchmen along the way but didn't acknowledge anyone. Once he was there at the top, he felt like he could breathe again. He looked in the direction of Winterfell and screamed at the top of his lungs. He wanted to help them! He wanted them to come back home.

* * *

"What is it, Ser Rodrik," Catelyn stood up from her chair.

"A letter from King's Landing arrived this morning," he stepped into the room.

She smiled and looked down at the desk. "I just finished reading a letter from my husband."

"Your husband," Ser Rodrik questioned.

"Yes," she nodded. "It seems that he had given a letter to your niece and she had it sent here. She was cautious of the Queen but she met a friend who was able to get the letter out secretly."

"Did he speak of any plans," he asked urgently.

"No," she laughed, "only some information that I am to pass on to Jon and Nysa when the time is right. There were other things he mentioned that I believe are privilege between a husband and wife," she smiled at the letter before turning back to Ser Rodrik to see him frowning. "Was it too late in the evening to jest with you?"

"My Lady, he did not mention any plans to denounce Prince Joffrey?"

"Denounce Prince Joffrey," Catelyn repeated, her face lit with confusion. "What are you speaking about?"

Ser Rodrik held up the letter. "King Robert is dead, my Lady." Catelyn took the letter from his hands. "And Lord Stark has been charged with treason."

Catelyn thought about the letter from Nysa. Perhaps the Queen did discover the letter Ned wrote to her. Perhaps this friend that she had made in the Capital was no friend at all. With shaky hands, she took the letter from Ser Rodrik and read through it - more than once. She tried desperately to make sense of what was being said. Then she realized a grave error on her part. They had just released Tyrion Lannister.

"When did this come in?"

"This morning, my Lady," he answered and as quick as she could, Catelyn made her way to her sister's chambers.

A guard bowed her head but Catelyn kept walking. She barged in to see Lysa tending to Robin.

"You've had this," she held the letter for her sister, "since dawn?"

"They sent it to me," Lysa smiled, "not to you. I allowed them to be shown it to you as a courtesy."

"Courtesy," Catelyn screeched as Lysa seemed unyielding. "My husband has been taken prisoner. My son intends to declare war!"

"War," Lysa questioned, "your son against the Lannisters? You should go to him," she spoke softly. "Teach him patience."

Catelyn could not believe her sister. "My husband is locked in a dungeon and you speak of patience," she shouted as Lysa cradled Robin closer to her. "He is your brother by law! Does family mean nothing to you? Or did you so easily forget when you were in King's Landing - the words of our father's house?"

"I did not forget, sister. Family means everything to me," she gripped onto Robin. "But I will not risk my son's life for another one of your husband's wars."

"I'm hungry," Robin tried to move his mother's dress.

"Hush darling," Lysa told her son and Catelyn tried to hold back her anger.

She remembered the first time she walked in here. Lord Tyrion had been correct on that matter. Her sister was not the same woman she once was. She wondered what had happened in King's Landing, what had caused such a madness. Her sister seemed more concern on other matters.

"You will not support us then, do I understand you correctly," Catelyn demanded to know.

"But I'm hungry," Robin screamed louder than before as Lysa again kept her attention on her son.

"You're always welcome here, Sister," Lysa replied once she got Robin settled. "But if you're asking me to send men from the Vale to fight..."

"That is what I ask," she stated in a firm tone.

Lysa looked down at Robin and kissed his hand. "Come on sweet, time for your bath," she urged him. "I'll feed you after."

Catelyn watched as Robin got up from her sister's lap and walked out with Lysa's nurse. The boy was as old as Bran. She looked away from her nephew and back to her sister. "If you truly fear for your son's life..."

"Of course, I fear for the safety of my son," Lysa began to raise her voice. "Are you an idiot? They killed my husband. You say they shoved your boy through a window. These people will do anything..."

"And that is why we have to stop them," Catelyn demanded.

Lysa got up and walked towards her sister. "The knights of the Vale will stay in the Vale and protect their Lord," she concluded.

Catelyn watched as she walked away before departing also. She hurried towards Ser Rodrik and announced that they were to leave immediately. She had to speak to Robb and it was not about patience.

* * *

After he had quenched his thirst, Lord Stark turned towards the Spider. "What of my daughters?"

"The younger one seems to have escaped the castle with some of your guards. Even my little birds cannot find her," Lord Varys replied.

"And Sansa," he asked.

"Still engaged to Joffrey," was the answer he was not looking for. "Cersei will keep her close."

"And you say that some of my guards are with Arya?" Varys nodded under the fire's light. "What of the girl?"

"The girl," he questioned.

"The bastard I brought here from Winterfell," Lord Stark explained.

"Ser Meryn claims that he and the Hound got rid of her," Lord Varys said with wide eyes. "She shot an arrow at one of his legs and stabbed him in the other. He repaid the favor and slashed his sword through her back. She threw a torch at the Hound and you know his feelings on fire. He as well repaid the favor and threw her into a room of fire."

"So, she is dead?"

"Who is this girl?" Ned looked away and so Lord Varys continued. "I will tell you that the girl escaped, walked out of the tower and shot an arrow at one of the Lannister men as they rode the Lady Sansa back to the Red Keep."

"Is she alive?"

Varys tilted his head. "We cannot confirm her death. She did her best to save your daughter but I was told that her injury became too much so they left her be, collapsed in the yard. Whoever this girl is, she killed many of the Lannister men. The Queen wanted her head. And when they went to retrieve her, her body was gone."

"She's alive," Lord Stark nodded, "Jory and the others?"

"The rest of your men, I'm afraid they have been slaughtered or are with your daughter."

"Did you watch them do it as you did in throne room?"

"No, but I would stand by and watch it happen again," he answered truthfully as Ned snorted. "We were surrounded by Lannister guards. I had no weapon, no armor. Do I look like a hero to you, Lord Stark?"

Ned shook his head and drank some more.

"What madness led you to tell the Queen you knew the truth of Joffrey's birth?"

"I wanted to spare Cersei's children," Ned told him.

"Ah the children," he noted. "It is always the innocents that suffer."

"Nothing stopped him from allowing the Lannisters to murder the Targaryen children," he sighed. "Robert would have done the same to those three and he'd never look back. I wanted to show them mercy."

"It was not the wine or the boar that killed Robert. The wine slowed him down and the boar ripped him open. But it was your mercy that killed your friend," Varys said as Ned turned away and closed his eyes. "I trust you know you're a dead man, Lord Eddard."

"The Queen can't kill me. Cat holds her brother."

"The wrong brother sadly," he almost chuckled, "and lost to her," he added causing Ned to turn to him. "Your wife has let the Imp slip from her fingers."

"If that's true, then slit my throat and be done with it," he dared.

"Not today, my Lord." Lord Varys went to leave but then looked back one last time at the man. "Tell me, who is Nysa Snow, Lord Stark," Varys asked him.

Ned looked up at him, staring into his eyes. "You are certain that she and my daughter Arya escaped?"

"They are nowhere to be found," he nodded, "my little birds have tried. They may still be in the Capital somewhere. The Queen had the gates checked but there are other passageways. And if your guards and those girls are smart enough, they have used them."

"It depends on how much guards are left, they would need horses to leave," Ned whispered. "But they have not been taken?"

Lord Varys shook his head. "They are safe for now. As safe as they can be - since they are not within the Queen's clutches."

"Then I will tell you that the girl is more important than she seems," he described.

Varys straightened out and looked the other way. "Then I will call off the hunt."

Ned watched as Lord Varys walked towards the open door. "Who do you really support?"

Lord Varys looked at him one last time, "I support whatever is good for the Realm. Someone must."

* * *

Ser Preston looked both ways for what was probably the hundredth time before he walked into the small home. A few of Winterfell's guards stood upon his entering, ready to draw their swords. It had taken a lot for them to believe that he was providing assistance. He hurried towards the bed where the young lady sat up, drinking water eagerly. Her brother said that the moment she was awake, they'd depart. And as much as Ser Preston wanted her to stay, he knew that it was not possible. They had to get to safety.

"How is she," he asked.

Nysa stopped and let some water drip down her chin and over her throat. "Ser Preston," she coughed before giving him a smile.

"You must save your breath," he told her as he was permitted to walk nearer to her side. "I have prepared horses," he nodded before turning towards her brother, "for every man. I thought that the young ladies would not be able to ride on their own."

"Why are you doing this," Jory narrowed his eyes at him.

"I have my reasons," he replied before looking at Nysa. "I suggest you leave tonight."

"What about Sansa," Nysa questioned.

"And what news of my father," the young Stark girl asked.

"The Queen keeps Sansa close to her," Ser Preston replied. "I'll do my best to watch over her and see how she is doing every now and then. But," he paused and shook his head.

"Something is wrong," Nysa reached for his hand and he reluctantly sat on the bed, "tell me."

"The Queen has dismissed Ser Barristan and," he looked towards the door.

"We cannot take him with us," Wyl protested. "He could have been the one to betray Lord Stark!"

Ser Preston shook his head. "Ser Barristan defended him, expressed shock and outrage that the Queen ripped up the King's decree. Ser Barristan wanted to uphold King Robert's last words, his dying wish," Ser Preston explained. "The Queen Regent - as she's calling herself - had him removed from serving as a Kingsguard."

"The Kingsguard is a service for life," Nysa shook her head, "she can't dismiss him!"

"But he supported Lord Stark," Ser Preston replied.

"What of my letter to Lady Stark," she asked him. "Were you able to..."

"It was sent out before everything happened," he nodded.

"Good," Nysa lay back. "I felt that was the most important one." Her head moved towards her brother. "Lord Stark gave me three letters to deliver. But the other two are lost - back in my trunk at the tower of the Hand. No doubt, they've gotten rid of them." Ser Preston confirmed it with a nod of his head. "Lady Catelyn's letter had to get out of here before we did. Thank you, Ser Preston."

"I really was hoping that you'd take Ser Barristan with you," he stated before turning to the men. "The Kingsguard service," he shook his head, "that's all that he had. He's loyal to the Crown, yes. But he also does the honorable thing. What he said in there," he sighed, "he was right. He could best all of us and still walk away without a scratch. They made jokes at his expense when he was dismissed. Lord Baelish humiliated him."

"Lord Baelish," Nysa took hold of Ser Preston's arm, "what did he do to defend Lord Stark?"

Again, Ser Preston shook his head. "He didn't."

"What," Arya shouted.

"He held a knife to your father's throat," Ser Preston described the scene, "and the City Watch turned on him after that, placed him under arrest." He shook his head and looked away. "I was hoping to get assigned to retrieve the rest of you," he nodded to Nysa, "but the Queen sent Ser Meryn instead and I was to escort Lord Stark down to the cells."

"So, we wait for my father," Arya decided.

"Your father said that we were to leave," Jory told her.

"You are sworn to protect my father! We stay," Arya concluded.

"And for what purpose," Ser Preston questioned. "I can only keep you all hidden for so long. If you stay any longer the chances of you leaving the City will be disastrous."

"What about Sansa? What is she doing to get my father released," Arya asked.

"She pleaded in court after Ser Barristan was dismissed. But you could see the pain in her eyes, especially after King Joffrey accused the knight of supporting Lord Stark. I believe that to her - Ser Barristan was the last supporter she had in King's Landing."

"Can't we wait," Arya looked around at all the guards.

"I promised your father that I would get you out safely," Jory shook his head. "If we don't take this opportunity to leave now..."

"Please," she begged and turned to Nysa. "Nysa, please? What if they release my father? What if there is a way that we can get him out of here? What if they release Sansa? We can do something. There is still time."

Nysa sighed and looked at Jory. "A night or two for me to rest would help also. It would be better - safer even - if I could lift my bow."

* * *

"Torrhen," Robb nodded to him as he sat down at the table. Theon cast him a quick look before sitting next to Bran. He had received a letter from Nysa the day after Sansa's had arrived.

 _I understand why you have not written back to me. You may care about me but it is obvious that I am an unsuitable wife. I did say not to birth hope where there is none. And yet a part of me did hope._

"Robb," Torrhen nodded in return.

 _I will accept your father's offer of Greenhall as a bridal gift for Lord Karstark's son and me. I pray that the Gods bless you with a wonderful lady wife. You deserve someone who is worthy of becoming Lady of Winterfell._

"Lord Stark," the eldest Karstark son nodded and went to sit as well.

Robb felt an intense sense of grief overtake him as House Karstark filed in. He should have defied his mother and wrote to Nysa - at least once. She had been hoping for something all this time and he had not given her anything to confirm his feelings. And now she would be lost to him. When his father is released and back home, he'd follow through on his plan to wed Nysa to House Karstark. He looked over at Torrhen Karstark again and wondered if Nysa had been writing to him.

"What is this news about your father committing treason," shouted the Greatjon, breaking Robb out of his thoughts. The Greatjon's two brothers sat by him and his three sons stood at another table. One of them came to speak with Bran before going back to his father's side.

"It's false and we all know it," Robb threw down the letter from King's Landing. "That came from my sister, Sansa," he looked around the room, "stating my father's crimes and that I am to go to King's Landing to bend the knee to Joffrey."

"A royal command is hard to ignore," Lord Cerwyn suggested.

"And so, he is expected to do nothing since his father sits in prison," barked Smalljon.

"Perhaps your father did do something," suggested the eldest Karstark, "especially if the letter came from your sister. She would not lie to you."

Before Robb could respond, another spoke up. "My wife received a letter from the young Lady Nysa," Lord Karstark began causing Robb to clench his fist a little. "She said that the Queen was very good at manipulating your sister." He looked towards his eldest son. "I have followed Ned Stark into battle before," he turned back towards Robb, "I have no doubt that Ned is innocent of whatever charges he is being accused of. And there could be a possibility that despite your sister writing that letter, the Queen probably stood right behind her, supplying her the words."

"Our assumption as well," Robb nodded to him as Lord Karstark nodded back.

"There is truth to the accusation though, is there," asked Lord Tallhart. "Your father refused Joffrey?"

"There has to be a good reason for my father denying the crown to Joffrey. He would not go against the son of his best friend," Robb looked around the room. "I trust my father's instinct. I'll stand against Joffrey the same as he did, especially if Joffrey has thrown my father into the dungeons."

"And you want us with you," asked Lord Glover.

"I do," Robb nodded.

"This will mean war," Lady Mormont said.

"And you want us to fight for you," Lord Cerwyn questioned.

"I understand if you have your objections but you all have sworn to protect my father, defend House Stark," Robb replied. "Joffrey has locked me father up in the dungeons, accused him of a crime that I know he did not commit. Joffrey has placed my sisters in danger, murdered my father's loyal guardsmen and is defiling my father's reputation in the South. We all know my father to be kind, loyal, honorable and just. I will go there to defend my father, protect my sisters, avenge those who have fallen and claim justice not just for House Stark but every slander the King speaks about those in the North. You have sworn your lives and houses to my father and I ask that you answer that call now, do your duty to serve your liege lord."

There was a small moment of silence as the Lords mulled this decision around in their head. Robb knew that a lot of them had their doubts - what with his being young, too young to lead an army. But he was doing this for his father and reminded them that in turn, they were doing this for his father also.

"Ned Stark is a good man, honorable as they come," the Greatjon spoke up first. "My brothers and I will march down with you."

"I heard that this King is a royal pain in the ass," Smalljon chuckled. "I will also go with you against Joffrey."

"Nothing good has ever happened of House Stark marching South," Lord Hornwood spoke. "Let us hope that this is the last time any of us have to go," he nodded. "You can count on me and my bannermen."

"House Stark has been good to us," Lady Mormont added. "Your father has been good to us."

"Lady Nysa is a friend," one of her daughters stepped forward - Robb could not discern her name though, "I will go with you."

"We'll all go with you," Lady Dacey matched her sister as their mother nodded at them. "You have House Mormont with you, Lord Robb."

"We go South," Lord Glover added, "to King's Landing to get your father back," he lifted his cup in the air, "to Lord Stark."

"Lord Stark," all the men in the room shouted.

That encouraged Robb a great deal, he had the backing of his father's bannermen.

"Now," Greatjon began, "what are our plans, young wolf?"

* * *

Jon was massaging his hand lightly. If he did it too much then he would surely hurt it further. He thought about what the Maester said and a quick memory of Nysa came into his mind. She had always used the right healing cream whenever they got injured from playing too rough in the yard. It was odd to see Maester Aemon used the same techniques.

His head turned to see the Lord Commander walk in. "When does Aemon think you're going to use that hand?"

"Soon, he says," Jon answered.

"Good, you'll be ready for this then," he brought his sword out and displayed it for Jon. "I thought a wolf was more appropriate for you than a bear. So, I had a new pummel made. Called Longclaw," the Commander told Jon, "works as well as a wolf as a bear, I think."

Jon took it and moved it around for a bit. He pulled out the sword half-way and glanced over at Commander Jeor. "This is Valyrian steel."

Commander Jeor nodded, "it was my father's sword and his father before him. Mormont's have carried it for five centuries," he explained as Jon stared at the sword. "It was meant for my son, Jorah. He brought dishonor to our House but he had the grace to leave the sword before he fled from Westeros."

He began walking away and Jon shook his head. "My Lord, you honor me but I can't..."

"Oh, you can," the Lord Commander stated as he grabbed a pitcher, "and you will. I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for you and your beast," he began pouring himself a drink. "A bloody dead man tried to kill me. So, you'll take it," he nodded to Jon, "and hear no more about it. Understood?"

"Yes, my Lord," Jon nodded.

"I don't think this means that I approve of this nonsense between you and Alliser Thorne," he sat down. "That's a man's sword. It'll take a man to wield it."

"I'll apologize to Ser Alliser..."

"No, you won't," Lord Commander Jeor shook his head, "I've sent him to King's Landing yesterday. The hand that your wolf tore off that thing's wrist, I've ordered Thorne to lay it at the feet of this King," he smiled at Jon. "That should get young Joffrey's attention and it, uh, puts a thousand leagues between you and Thorne." Jon smiled at those two statements. "Now go and put your sword somewhere safe," Jeor instructed, "and bring me my supper."

"Yes, my Lord," Jon nodded before walking out.

Jon passed several of his fellow watchmen on the way to the hall, they congratulated him, patted his back and told him that he earned it. He smiled and nodded to them. He had always wanted a sword like this - always wanted his father's sword. Nysa had a Valyrian steel sword that she received from her Lord Uncle as a name-day present. He said it belonged to someone in their family. He glanced down again at the sword and couldn't help but feel like he had found himself a family.

He walked into the hall and Pyp, Grenn and a few others jumped to their feet. "Alright, let us see it," Pyp said.

"See what," Jon asked.

"The sword," Grenn replied as the other nodded eagerly.

"Sword," Pyp began chanting and soon the entire hall filled with their voices, "sword, sword, sword, sword..."

Jon handled the sheath to Grenn who held it steady for him so Jon could pull it out. They all cheered and Pyp took it right away. "Let's have a look at it in the light!"

Jon laughed at their antics before looking at Sam who sat down at the table, looking glum. He walked there slowly and took a seat next to him. "What is it?"

"I can't..."

"You can't what," Jon questioned.

Sam stuttered a bit before shaking his head, "I'm really not supposed to say."

"And yet, you really want to say. You really want to say that," Jon encouraged him.

"There was a raven," Sam turned to Jon. "I read the message to Maester Aemon," he looked around before turning back, "it's about your brother, Robb."

"What?"

Sam shook his head.

"What about him?"

"He's heading South, to war," Sam replied. Jon turned around, looking distraught. "All his bannermen have rallied to his side. They'll keep him safe."

Jon thought about Robb then, about the memories of Winterfell, running through the Keep, playing in the yard and causing havoc everywhere they went. He remembered fighting with sticks, pretending to be Kings and soldiers of the tales that Nysa told them about. He remembered going on their first hunt together, learning to shoot a bow together, training Bran together and even going to the brothel together. They did everything - together.

"I should be there," Jon decided. "I should be with him."

* * *

There were men already camped at Moat Cailin. Robb looked around to see the sigils of bannermen who did not arrive at Winterfell. It was obvious they had received his call but waited for him here. It was a long journey to Winterfell as Lord Glover reminded him. For House Karstark, House Hornwood, House Mormont and House Glover the travel was indeed a long one. Other nearby Houses could handle the journey but not everyone. Lord Glover also reminded Robb that it would be easier on the men to prepare themselves here at the Neck. And for a moment, Robb was glad that he had someone there to advise him.

"Lord Karstark, Lord Umber," Robb nodded towards them before bowing slight at Lord Glover, "will the three of you follow me as I meet with the other Lords?"

They agreed and a few others accompanied them - including Theon who noticed that a few of the Lords had brought their daughters with them here to Moat Cailin. He winked at one of them but was quickly put back in his place by Smalljon.

"Lord Bolton," Robb stopped at the tent of Lord Roose Bolton.

"My Lord Stark," Roose bowed his head before turning behind him. "I have brought with me two hundred men from House Ryswell and another two hundred from House Dustin. They send their apologies that they could not attend themselves but hope that you know they will support House Stark and your father in any way that they can."

Robb nodded. "I understand that not every man or Lord can come," he nodded. "A Stark must always be in Winterfell," Robb declared straightening up on his horse. "And as such men must be here to guard their home and castle just the same. Whatever men or swords they can spare is always appreciated," he looked at the men who stood behind Lord Bolton.

"House Stark has our support," Roose nodded before noticing Lord Umber, Lord Glover and Lord Karstark were close to Robb. So, it began, he thought. The fight for the young Lord's attention and approval. "Might I beg a favor of my Lord, to be placed as a commander in your army?"

"You have brought House Ryswell and House Dustin with you," Robb nodded, "you may command them and more, once I complete our plans."

The Greatjon narrowed his eyes at Lord Bolton before turning his horse to ride after the young wolf. There was another large party gathered on the other end and Robb decided to figure out the numbers of every soldier that was to assist him. The more, the better.

"Lord Wyman," Robb nodded to the Lord of White Harbor.

"Forgive me. I would have met you in Winterfell, my Lord," Lord Wyman nodded, "but I thought it better that we wait until your departure."

"There is no need to apologize," he waved it off before noticing a few figures appear by Lord Wyman's side.

"My sons, Wylis and Wendel will ride with you," Lord Wyman told him. "And with them, I give two-thousand of my men," he gestures behind him, "pledged in service to House Stark. House Manderly will always pledge its loyalty to House Stark."

"And House Stark is grateful for it," Robb nodded.

"My Lord," a young woman stepped forward. Lord Wyman turned to her with a reproachful look. "Do you have room to spare?"

"I already told you, that you are not going," Lord Wyman advised.

"I do not speak of myself. It is just a small trunk that I wish to give to Lady Nysa," she pleaded, her eyes staring up at Robb's. He trotted his horse forward until he was next to her. "You see it was my name-day yesterday," she looked down. "It was _our_ name-day yesterday," she finished.

Robb swallowed a breath and turned around to look at Theon and then Torrhen Karstark. He had forgotten Nysa's name-day as well. They were in such haste to leave the North and get her back that they had forgotten about it. "You are Lady Wynafryd," Robb nodded as she smiled, "I believe Lady Nysa has spoken of you. You traveled to Winterfell two years, three years pass."

"Yes, my Lord," she nodded and looked back towards the Karstark banners. "I've always written letters to her before. We only just met in person during that feast but," she smiled, "Lady Nysa is one of my dearest friends. Her Lord Uncle always sends her gifts by ship," she gestured to the harbor before turning back. "She was so kind and generous - allowing me to choose a gown or material from among the many she received and I would place one I had sewn in its place for her. It's our tradition and I," her bottom lip trembled. "If you find her, would you please..."

"Of course, my Lady," he nodded. Robb turned around and caught Torrhen's eye before gesturing him to step forward. "I will have Torrhen Karstark in charge of it. He will make sure that it gets to her safely."

"Thank you, my Lord," Wynafryd curtsied to Robb before nodding to Torrhen, "thank you, cousin. And please tell Nysa that," she paused and closed her eyes as a tear fell down. "Tell her that she can have the rest of her gifts when she comes home," Wynafryd looked up and caught Robb's eye.

"Aye, I will," Robb promised. "She will come home."

Wynafryd turned away quickly and dashed back, causing Lord Wyman to chuckle. "She has been beside herself since news of your father arrived at White Harbor," he said. "It seems my granddaughter desires that we not only fight for Lord Stark but we fight for her friend as well."

"Believe me," Robb nodded, "I want them all to return."

* * *

"Why are you doing this," Nysa asked Ser Preston as he helped move another pouch of supplies into the room.

Ser Preston paused in his work and "How old are you, my Lady?"

"I," she looked down and smiled sadly, "seventeen, fine knight."

Ser Preston nodded. "My daughter would have been your age," he said causing her to look up at him. "My wife, she," a sad smile graced his face this time. "We were wed in a small, secret ceremony. She was to be sent to King's Landing and I," he shook his head, "there was nothing magnificent about the House I come from."

"I'm guessing her father opposed?"

"Aye, he did," Ser Preston chuckled.

"Who was the Lady?"

"Ashara Dayne," he answered as Nysa's eyes widened. "I'm assuming you've heard her name before?"

Nysa nodded. "There were quite a few people who said that I resemble her. Lord Stark said it was just my hair and eyes perhaps," Nysa shook her head, "I heard she was a great beauty though. There's nothing great about me."

"I would disagree," he told her honestly. "Ashara and I met at a youthful age - like many others I idolized her brother. You see, her brother and her father were fierce knights. Her brother, the Sword of the Morning, was magnificent. Have you heard of him?" Nysa smiled and nodded. "I was told that Lord Stark had killed him," he began, "whilst trying to get his sister."

"I've heard that as well," Nysa replied.

"With a son like that, I suppose he wanted only the best for his daughter," Ser Preston began. "We wrote letters to one another - letters of love. When I heard that she was serving as the Princess's lady in waiting, I did everything in my power to see her. During the infamous tourney at Harrenhall..."

"Where Prince Rhaeger crowned Lyanna Stark his Queen of love and beauty," Nysa assumed as he nodded.

"She danced with many a knight during the feast but she'd always glance over at me and I knew that she was thinking of me. Her brother was there and I couldn't approach her, we had to be quiet about everything. So, we met one another in the dead of the night, got a drunk Septon to wed us," he smiled. "Her brother found out in the morning and made up some ridiculous tale that she had been dishonored, sent her back to Starfall - where she remained until she died."

Nysa shook her head. "And the child?"

"A little girl," he smiled at her before frowning, "still-born." He looked away and sighed. "They say she had her mother's eyes."

"I'm sorry, Ser Preston," Nysa's eyes looked to the ground before she saw a wet spot form.

Ser Preston took a step closer to her, placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face to look up at him. "The night we went in search of the young Stark girl and you were talking to me, reminded me of how much I missed hearing my dear Ashara. And when you mentioned family, I remembered why I took the oath to serve as a Kingsguard," he explained. "I had nothing else to live for after Ashara and my daughter died. When Lord Tywin and Ser Jamie were suggesting names and I volunteered, I knew that I was giving up a chance to have a family, to own lands. It didn't seem so appealing to me as it had when Ashara was by my side. I rather live a life in service if I had to live without the two of them."

Ser Preston wiped her tears away and moved to press a kiss to her forehead.

"I imagine that my daughter would have graced the hall of King's Landing much like you did during the feast that was held here. I would have had to fight off Ser Merlon, Ser Lucion and even that Frey knight to protect my daughter's honor," he smiled as Nysa released a small laugh.

She realized then that the look of longing he had in the woods near the Inn was definitely not the same as Robb or Torrhen. No, it was a look of a father and daughter. He had seen his daughter in her that night.

"It's the reason why you've been so kind to me," she stated.

"I see my daughter when I look at you," he smiled kindly. "I see the young woman she might have become. I see the knights fawning over her like they did for her mother. I see her gracing the halls of King's Landing the same way her mother would. I see the family that I so desperately wanted - alive." He reached up his hand to cup her cheek. "Promise me you'll get out of here alive and safely."

* * *

"Then I consent," Robb stated angrily before storming out.

He heard Theon's laughter as he walked away. He was to wed one of Lord Walder Frey's daughters - he couldn't even meet her, talk to her, or know her name. As heir to Winterfell he always knew that he would wed. But a part of him - a very small part of him - wanted to choose the bride himself. And now, he was being given a bride, an army and a way across. It was this or find another way to his father and sisters - and to Nysa.

Closing his eyes, he thought of Nysa then. He thought of her smile, her hand in his, the feel of her body in his lap, and the way she offered him the right words at the right time. She was the one - the only one. And now he would be taking another. He thought of her letters - especially the last one. She had been his to desire. She was his, for a moment - even though they were apart - she had hoped for him as well. And now that was all gone.

"Is this truly about the girl's appearance?"

Robb opened his eyes at his mother's approach, quickly wiping his face with his sleeve to hide his grief from her. "No," he responded.

"I've heard the rumors and seen them myself. They may be plain but they..."

"They are not Nysa," he shook his head.

Catelyn smiled gently, realizing now why her son was so upset. "Robb..."

"She and I could never be. Father has been planning her betrothal for a while now and I've been blind," he tried to excuse - whether to her or himself, Catelyn did not know. "She was never mine. She and I just were not meant to..."

"Robb..."

"I love her, mother! I love her," he turned around and faced his mother. "Gods it feels so good to say that now," he shook his head, "to declare my feelings so openly and especially to you," he laughed. "But none of that matters, does it?"

"Your father and I always believed that there was a part of you that did care for her," Catelyn responded.

"And right now, she is at King's Landing, trapped like Sansa and Arya. Father and my sisters are not the only ones I march to the South for. Surely you know this," he looked his mother in the eyes."

Catelyn nodded. "I do."

"Then write to Lord Frey, tell him I consent," Robb turned away.

As a mother, she wanted to hold him, tell him that everything would be alright. "Robb..."

"I consent so that I can save _her_ life and spend the rest of mine with someone I know nothing about!"

"Lords will wed the daughters of other Lords to secure men," Catelyn began. "It's been done for years before and will continue to be done again. Your father wed me to secure my father's men to save his sister and avenge his brother and father." Catelyn's hand touched her son's arm. "And despite our differences in the beginning, your father and I grew to love one another, Robb. This girl..."

Robb pulled away. "I consent to wed his daughter," he looked back at her. "But do not talk to me of love, mother. Not when I have already given my heart to another."

* * *

Jory and the other guards ran through the path they were to take - from the street in King's Landing to the gate to the road towards their freedom. Ser Preston informed them when the guards would change out and how many guards were posted at each.

"They are to bring Lord Stark before the King today," Ser Preston told them. "Now is a good as time as any to leave because every guard and every small folk will be there," he motioned to a spot on the map.

"Will be where, fine knight," Nysa asked, entering the room.

"Lord Stark is being presented to confess his crimes," Jory told her.

"But there are no crimes," she protested.

"Thank you, Ser Preston," Jory nodded to him as he nodded in reply.

Ser Preston stepped forward and touched Nysa's cheek. "I'll look after Lady Sansa. You must go now." He dropped his hand and left the room.

"Where are they taking Lord Stark," Nysa turned towards her brother.

"It does not matter. We need to leave. You heard Ser Preston."

"But there's still a chance..."

"Nysa," her brother shook her, "we need to go."

"We're leaving," Arya questioned.

"Yes, get your things," Jory told her as she nodded and went to get her sword. "I know you want to save Sansa, Nysa. But now is not the time. We have waited long enough. At least this way we'll have a head start on them. Every guard will be preoccupied with Lord Stark. We need..."

"He asked me to save both his daughters!"

"Sansa will be safe here. She is still betrothed to the King."

"They will keep her a prisoner," Nysa shouted.

"Go and get ready, Nysa. We are leaving," he yelled back.

She stomped her feet all the way out of the room, pouting like she usually did when she was younger. Jory refused to look at her. Wyl, Desmond and Cayn all turned away as well. They'd give in to her tantrums, they used to when she was younger. She had just exited the room and hid behind the door when she heard her brother command everyone not to say a word to Nysa or Arya about Lord Stark. She gasped when he said the direction as to where they were going because it was in the opposite direction of where Lord Stark would be. That only left one place, Nysa thought.

Arya walked inside. "I've got my sword. I am to ride horses with you again?"

Nysa didn't reply but took Arya's hand and went towards the horse. She began tying the saddle and preparing it quickly.

Arya stared at her in wonderment. "What are you doing?"

"Your father is being taken to the Grand Sept," Nysa whispered.

"For what," Arya asked as Nysa moved her towards another horse.

"To confess his actions," she answered. "The Queen will want to make an example out of him, in front of the people. Joffrey is said to forgive him if he confesses."

"Then perhaps we should be there," she nodded. "We must go and see him," Arya said as she jumped onto a horse. Nysa followed her, settling herself behind Arya. "Joffrey is a liar."

"I know he is. Now let's go get your father."

"What are you two doing," Wyl demanded to know as he walked out to meet them. "Jory! Jory, your sister!"

"Stop," Jory shouted but Nysa took the reins and pushed the horse forward.

It probably was not one of her smarter moments. But Nysa could not leave without taking this chance to free Sansa or even Lord Stark. There were a lot of people crowding the streets. Eventually they left the horse in the back and decided to push their way through the crowd on foot.

"I don't see him," Arya said. "I'm too short!"

"We have to get higher," Nysa answered.

It was then that they heard the crowd shouting 'traitor' repeatedly. Nysa took hold of Arya and pulled her around people until they found the statue of Baelor and hid behind it. She looked around to see Lord Stark being navigated to the front. Nysa held onto Arya with one arm and braced them against the statue with her other. Lord Stark caught their eyes and smiled slightly at Arya.

"Father," she said softly before looking up at Nysa.

Lord Stark's eyes found Nysa's then. "Safe," he shouted over the crowd. Nysa nodded and pulled Arya to her. "Safe," he continued to shout as he was pulled along.

Nysa cast her eyes to the front where she saw Sansa standing, her eyes red and puffy - no doubt from crying. She had to get Sansa out of there. She had to. Her eyes scanned everyone else who was there and noticed Renly was gone, along with Ser Barristan. Ser Preston was right. She looked for him then and saw him standing right next to Sansa.

"They're wrong," Arya said as Nysa turned her attention to everyone in the crowd - everyone who was still calling Lord Stark a traitor. A few of the people began to hit him also and Nysa cringed at every step he took towards the front.

Lord Stark stood in the front now. Nysa did not miss the smirk of satisfaction on Lord Baelish's face. She pulled out an arrow quietly and thought about shooting him with it. Lord Stark trusted him and that was how he repaid that trust. She nudged Arya with her elbow so they could move on the other side and Nysa's arrow was hidden from sight.

"I am Eddard Stark," Lord Stark's voice began and Nysa lowered her bow, "Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King." He paused and looked towards Sansa. Nysa knew at that moment that he was doing it to save Sansa. The Queen probably made Sansa believe that it was the only way. Nysa shook her head as Lord Stark continued. "I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of Gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my King and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children but before his blood was cold, I plotted to murder his son and seize the throne for myself."

"Traitor," the crowd shouted.

"Dishonorable!"

"Murderer!"

"It's not true," Arya shook her head. "It's not true!"

"Let the High Septon and Baelor the Blessed bear witness to what I said. Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, by the grace of all the Gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

The crowd continued to shout and this time Nysa did raise her bow.

Grand Maester Pycelle stepped forward. "As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in sight of Gods and men. The Gods are just but the beloved Baelor taught us that they can also be merciful."

"Get ready to run, Arya," Nysa told her.

"What is to be done with this traitor, your grace?"

Joffrey raised his hand and Nysa turned her bow towards him. "My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night's Watch, stripped of all titles and power he would serve the Realm in exile. And my Lady Sansa," he turned to Sansa, causing Nysa to lower her bow and narrow her eyes at Sansa. Maybe Sansa had encouraged him to release her father. "She has begged mercy for her father."

"They'll release him," Arya said, hope in her voice.

"But they have the soft hearts of women," Joffrey turned away, "so long as I am your King, treason should never go unpunished! Ser Ilyn bring me his head," he ordered.

The crowd shouted in agreement. Ser Preston grabbed Sansa and held her back. Lord Varys, Grand Maester, and the Queen tried to stop Joffrey but he shook them off. Arya looked about the crowd and jumped off, running towards her father. Nysa lifted the bow then and let it fly towards Joffrey. It was a second too late because his Kingsguard had already moved around him.

Ser Boros groaned as the arrow pierced his shoulder, mere inches away from the King's head. "It's that bastard girl," Ser Meryn shouted as he stepped forward.

Nysa saw the guards being sent into the crowd and turned to look for Arya but she was gone. She snaked off the statue and held up her bow again, aiming it this time for Ser Ilyn. He pulled out the sword - Ice - causing her to gasp and her eyes wet with tears. Her fingers released the arrow only to have someone hit her from the back.

"Get off of me," she kicked out her feet and moved her arms about.

Jory hurried to pick her up, covering her with a cloak to conceal the bow she had. Nysa struggled for a moment as the crowd murmured and shouted for the King's assassin. "Stop it, Nysa," Jory warned her.

"He promised Lord Stark mercy," she seethed. "He was promised mercy and he got the sword."

"And so you release an arrow at him," Jory shook her as they came to a crowded spot where they could blend in more easily.

"You wouldn't defend Lord Stark," Nysa responded as they met up with Wyl and Desmond, "so I had to!" All three of them formed around her and continued to lead her through the crowd to where Cayn had struggled to get Arya away. "He was murdered! Lord Stark was murdered!"

"Aye, and now I must protect you and Lady Arya," Jory told her. "We stick to the plan," he nodded to Cayn. "Lord Stark asked us to get them out of the City. We must hurry before anyone recognizes us."

Nysa looked back just as Wyl got on the horse behind her. Ser Boros, the Kingsguard who stepped in front of Joffrey got up and pulled the arrow from his arm. "I missed," she gritted her teeth. "I can't believe I missed!"

"Aye," Wyl said. "But enough blood has been spilled today." He kicked their horse before following the other guards - the shouting of the crowd disappearing behind them.

Even after the crowds had died and they were hours away from King's Landing, Nysa still had not shed a tear. No, she was overwhelmed with anger and hatred. She was too livid to cry.


	12. Part 2:Kings and Queens - Chapter 12

**Part 2  
Kings and Queens**

 **Chapter 12**

Jon shook his head and looked out into the snow. Snow, he snorted. We are the same, Nysa's voice was heard as the wind blew around him. In a way they were, he thought as he closed his eyes. The wind howled, louder than a wolf in the night. He made a vow.

 _I will wed and you will come to serve as my personal guard. That is final._ No, he made a final decision. That decision was to serve as a Night's Watch.

 _I do not want you to go._ But it was not her decision to make, it was his.

 _I wanted you to be the first to know. I wanted your approval. You truly mean a lot to me, Nysa. I may be going somewhere that I will gain many brothers but they will not replace my sisters here, and that includes you._

Nothing could replace her and now she was in danger. Lord Stark - his father - was gone. Robb would go to defend House Stark, his father and get his sisters back. But there was also Nysa in King's Landing. She needed to be saved as well. They couldn't just let her stay there. They couldn't.

 _You don't understand what you be giving up._ His Uncle Benjen tried to get him to see reason, that it was too soon that he was taking this oath. He had protested, saying that he did not care about family or having children. _You might. If you know what it meant._

 _You must make that choice yourself_ , Maester Aemon's words came to him then, _and live with it for the rest of your days._

 _In the meantime, you best say your goodbyes to your sister,_ his father had gestured towards Nysa as they said their farewells. _She will need you one day._

She needed him now.

It was the dead of the night. He knew the guards weren't their best here at Castle Black. He knew that he could exit without being heard. The only problem was that his friend - his first friend that he had made here was watching the door to his chambers. Jon shook his head and began walking down the steps. Sam hurried over towards him. When they finally met in the yard, Jon did his best not to look at Sam. Sam stared at him, demanding that he look at him. Jon said nothing and continued to prepare a horse, placing a saddle, some furs and his sword on the mount.

"You've taken a vow," Sam said finally as Jon finished his task.

"Get out of my way, Sam," Jon pushed past him.

Sam was reluctant though. "They'll put out word. They'll send out ravens," he protested "People will come after you. Do you know what happens to deserters?"

He turned around to face his friend, staring him down. "Better than you do," Jon answered him.

"What are you going to do?"

Jon turned back to the horse with confidence. "Find my brother and put a sword through King Joffrey's throat." He climbed onto the horse and looked down as Sam stepped in front of him.

"You can't leave us now! We need you here."

"Move," Jon barked at him.

Sam whimpered a bit but stood tall. "I won't let you go."

"Move!"

"No," Sam shouted.

Jon urged his horse forward, brushing Sam out of his way. He kicked the horse to run at an urgent pace. Nysa needed him. His brother needed him. He turned his head and saw Ghost running closely behind him.

* * *

"Lord Robb," Lord Karstark tried to reach for him but he pushed past all his Lords and walked out of the tower.

He hurried through the yard, past the wall and beyond the camp grounds. Robb did not know where he was going, only that he wanted to go somewhere - anywhere but back there where news of his father's death had come crashing down on him.

 _This is the North, my son. You will become Lord of not just Winterfell but the entire North one day. They will look to you._

Robb couldn't do it now. He just couldn't. He wanted his father back. He wanted him back here. Robb thought about everything that he was fighting for, the reason why he was going South. And now one of those reasons was gone. He had to be a man, a Lord in front of the others but he could not do it - not without his father to guide him. He needed his father.

 _I remember the first time I held you in my arms, that was the first time I felt like a man._

Robb stumbled through the woods until he found a clearing and ran towards it. Joffrey - that royal pain in the ass - had promised him mercy. Tywin Lannister marched on his mother's homelands. Cersei Lannister held his sisters captive. Jamie Lannister had killed dozens of his men - men loyal to his father. One of them hurt Bran, he took out his sword. One of them ordered that his father be killed, he swung it at a nearby tree. Another one of them fought with his father in King's Landing, stabbed him in the leg, and had Winterfell guards put to death. Someone ordered the assassination on his younger brother's life. He thought about Arya and Sansa as well. The Queen ordered that Lady be put to death - the direwolf of her soon to be good-daughter.

 _You may look like a Tully but inside you are all Stark, my son._

He imagined every Lannister, every royal guard, every one that had harmed his family. He welcomed them into their home, his father had welcomed them into their home. His father would never do anything wrong against them unless there was great reason. And now Robb had a definite reason. He was going there to protect his mother's Riverlands, get his family back. And now he had to avenge them.

 _Starks protect their family and guide those under their care._

The tears began to sting his eyes as he thought of life without his father, becoming a Lord without his father, fighting without his father. He had a reason to fight now. He'd kill them all. Kill them for crippling his brother, murdering his father, endangering his sisters, harming Nysa.

 _Do all of that and you have nothing to fear, Robb._

"Robb," his father's voice disappeared and was replaced with another. "Robb!"

He was pulled away from his thoughts, his father disappearing even farther away as he looked with blurry eyes to see who the intruder was. It was none other than his mother. From the look on her face, she must have heard the news as well. He was breathing heavily, the tears falling freely. His hand was sore but he didn't care.

"You've ruined your sword," she told him.

Robb dropped it then and ambled towards his mother, stumbling here and there until she caught him in her arms. "I'll kill them all," he declared as she held him close, "every one of them. I'll kill them all," he began to sob as his mother ran her hand through his hair.

"My boy," she quieted him gently. "They have your sisters," she reminded him, "we have to get the girls back."

The girls, he thought about them again. Did the Lannisters make them watch? Where was Sansa and Arya in all this? Where was Nysa?

"And then," his mother pushed him back slightly and looked into his eyes with a serious, fixed expression, "we will kill them all."

* * *

Jory kept the party riding hard and fast for the first day. Every time Wyl or Cayn would slow down because their horses were carrying more than just them, Jory and Desmond would take over. Nysa refused to speak to her brother - still furious that nothing was done about Lord Stark's execution. Wyl reminded her that they were a party of ten - eight guards and two young women, one of them still a child. What were they supposed to do? They'd get killed in the process themselves. She thought about the arrow she shot - and missed. Joffrey was still alive. He was still alive! She shouldn't have rejoiced in murdering a young boy. But for some reason, she would have excused her actions if it were Joffrey.

Nysa slapped Jory's hand away from her face, causing her brother to seethe. "There was nothing that could be done," he shouted, "now get on the horse."

"I'm not riding with you!"

"Then you can walk," he responded before climbing back onto his horse and leading it away from her.

Another horse came by then and Porther offered her his hand. "Come on, my lady," he urged, "Its a long way back to Winterfell."

Nysa snorted before taking Porther's hand and pulling herself up onto the horse and sliding behind him. Alyn strode up towards the two of them and said he would carry her next before they hurried after Jory. The second time that they stopped, Nysa flew into a fury again. She shouted at her brother for being disloyal and faithless. Alyn tried to get her onto his horse but it was no use - not when she was so upset.

"Calm down," Jory tried to hold her but she thrashed around in his arms.

"Don't touch me," she shouted, trying to push her brother away. "Don't touch me," she protested again and this time her brother screamed in agony, falling back down.

Nysa stopped then and went to approach her brother but he shook his head. This had happened twice before. She would disappear into a state of anger that it hurt everyone around her. Guiltily, she looked down. Jory saw Ronin walk towards his sister and dump a bucket of water onto her. She gasped and shook her head, wiping the water away from her face as a couple of them chuckled. It was the only way to get her to cool down. Jory held his arm and waddled away until Porther came and suggested to rub mud on his arm where his sister had touched him.

"That better," Porther asked as Jory nodded.

"I think we've rode enough for today," Wyl walked towards them, sensing the scene. "Perhaps if you see to your sister's emotional state, she won't be a problem as the journey continues." Jory nodded and looked up to see Nysa taking off her cloak and ringing some of the excess water out. "We're all upset about Lord Stark's death. We can't go on not acknowledging that it didn't happen."

"Aye," Jory agreed. "Wyl, take Cayn with you," he instructed, "go and get some rabbit or pheasant to eat. Porther, go and get the fire ready."

"Is it wise to make a fire," asked Porther. "We do have bread and cheese. And the knight has given us enough furs to keep warm. This isn't the North."

"We build a fire," Jory looked over to Arya, "we keep the little Lady safe and well-fed. She'll need meat in her system - especially after today." The guards nodded and went to do as instructed. He saw Nysa who had just laid out a fur for her and Arya. The young girl hadn't shed a tear either. Jory ambled over and saw a panicked look on his sister's face. "I'm fine," he gritted out, "and you," he nodded towards Arya, "did you want to talk about..."

"They just stood there," Arya commented with a far-off look.

"There wasn't much we could..."

"Not you," she looked at him before casting her eyes down again, "Cersei, Littlefinger, the Hound," she named them.

"You didn't see it happen though," Jory asked, "right?"

Arya shook her head slightly. "Cayn hid my face. When we were riding away, I looked back and I saw Ser Preston carry Sansa away."

"I saw that too," Nysa said softly.

"But the rest of them," she shook her head, "they all just stood there."

"My lady," Jory began.

"They stood there like it did not bother them, like they did not care."

"Arya," Nysa reached out for her shoulder.

"If I ever see them again, I'll run them through with Needle," Arya spat out before turning away, muttering something about finding wood for the fire.

"Let her go," Jory told Nysa. She turned to look at her brother. "The other guards are around here, Nysa. She'll be fine. You and I need to talk."

"I'm sorry about your arm," she said quickly and Jory sighed. "I can make something to heal it," she reached for him but he took a step back and shook his head.

"It feels fine," Jory said before looking down at his arm. "My tunic took most of it. My skin just felt a bit warm..."

"A bit warm," his sister snorted.

"Truly Nysa," he assured her, taking a step closer and daring to run his fingers down her cheek, "I'm alright."

He gestured for her to sit on a nearby log. Once they were settled, his eyes scanned the woods around them, watching as the men prepared to set up for the night. He didn't like the idea of his sister or the young Arya being out here - in the open and unprotected. Yes, there were eight guards but he still did not like it. There was a sense of uneasiness - and yes, they still had not grieved the loss of their Lord. Jory was still trying to cope with the loss of the other guards.

"I was so scared," his sister started instead. "I still am. I can't imagine a world without Lord Stark in it," she shook her head. "What are we to do without him? Where are we to go? How will we survive? What about Lady Catelyn or Robb or Jon?"

"Aye, this affects everyone," Jory said quietly, not really knowing how to respond just yet.

"I try to think that we're riding back home to Winterfell and that he'll be there, scolding Robb and Jon about something," a sad smile fell on her face. "I can picture him reprimanding the three of us for sneaking out of Winterfell."

"You three did that too often," Jory shook his head, "if anything it's my guards who should be reprimanded for not being more watchful."

Nysa let out a small laugh then. "I remember the time that you had gone with Lord Stark to fight against the Ironborn," she shook her head. "I had been worrying about Lady Stark since she had just birthed Arya. I told Lord Stark that I didn't trust the guards he was leaving behind. I didn't mean to get them in trouble, either. But I remember that he knelt in front of me," Nysa described, "and told me that if they misbehaved, then I could set them aright," she laughed again. "Wyl and Alyn were on their best behavior after they heard that."

"Are you sure that wasn't your doing instead of Lord Stark's," he teased.

"I am innocent as a lamb, I have no idea what you're talking about," she lifted her chin in defiance as Jory broke out into laughter.

"Sure you are," he shook his head and turned to look at Porther who got the fire started. "Well, even if you weren't innocent, Lord Stark allowed you to get away with anything. It was as though you were Captain of the guards and I was just some simple maid."

"Is that what you think of me," she exclaimed in shock, "I'm just some simple maid," she pushed Jory lightly causing they two of them to laugh. "But you are right," she said once they both calmed down, "Lord Stark hardly ever punished me and if he did it was a simple reprimand."

"And yet that did the trick," Jory nodded.

"Lord Stark was kind and he did not belittle me, or Robb, or Jon," she sighed. "He treated everyone fairly. He upheld principles that surpassed any law. I never thought that he was cruel or impatient with me or anyone of his children. I only saw a devoted husband, a caring father and a just Lord," Nysa laughed lightly. "I didn't feel as though I were a bastard while in his care. He treated me as though I were his... his niece," she stumbled over the word and Jory turned to her.

"You can say it," he encouraged, "because I would say it, too. You forget that I was fourteen, no," he shook his head, "thirteen when father died. Yes, I had our Uncle. But Lord Stark helped me, trained me, supported me and guided me when it was time to raise you," he took her hand in his. "I thought of him as a father also."

Nysa turned her head away and wiped her face with her other hand.

"Everyone doted on you and that was because of Lord and Lady Stark," Jory smiled. "I don't know what I'd do unless they were there. Lady Stark taught you everything proper and lady-like. Lord Stark introduced you to all the Houses in the North. He made you stand next to his children, made you feel like you belonged. It was just," Jory nodded, "it was just the way Lord Stark ruled his House and the North. He was just."

"He was," she whispered. "I was never left wanting. What Lord and Lady does that for another child, especially if that one is a bastard?"

"I've never heard you refer to yourself as a bastard this much before."

"It never concerned me as much," she shrugged, "until others pointed it out."

Jory looked away from her, knowing what she was referring to. "I remember the Kingslayer asking me once why you sat at the table with the Stark children, why you could sit on the dais with the other nobles, why you were introduced as Lady Nysa. And I remember telling him, because Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn raised you to be a Lady. In truth, I wanted to say that you were spoiled from birth." His sister narrowed her eyes at him. "Even you have to admit that you were a bit spoiled - not the same as Joffrey because as privileged as you were you didn't lord it over others." Her face paled. "That was a bad comparison."

"A horrible comparison," she stuck out her tongue.

"I know you wanted me to go back," he said suddenly. "I know that you want to go back. Believe me, a part of me wants to ride my horse back to King's Landing and demand that they allow House Stark justice. And if not, then I'd show that King what true justice is," Jory growled. "Lord Stark was more than just a Lord to me, Nysa. He was like my father, too. I weep for him. I will mourn for him." Their eyes met, both starting to water with tears. "Just because I did nothing back there, doesn't mean that I will ever forget everything that he has ever done for me or you. I owe him my life, so do you."

"I just don't like that we're running away..."

"We are protecting Arya," Jory shook his head. "We are going to get her back North, back to her brother and mother."

"We failed Sansa..."

"We did not fail her. Is that why you've been so unforgiving?" Nysa shook her head and looked away. "Nysa," his hold on her hand tightened. "We did all that we could to get her out. You shot an arrow at a Kingsguard - two members of the Kingsguard. Granted the second time you were aiming for the King," he added with some humor, "but you risked a lot to save her, including your own life."

"I still..."

"I won't have you believing that you failed her, Nysa." Jory pulled his sister to rest her head on his shoulder as she began to sob. "We are still a company of eight men, imagine what we could do with eight hundred or eight thousand," he rubbed her back. "We need to regroup, we need to get to Lady Catelyn. And even though Sansa is there, Ser Preston said that he would do his best to look after her. He's helped us this far, we need to trust that he will live up to his word."

Nysa buried her face into his shoulder and nodded. "He will," she mumbled.

"Would you tell me why he's been so accommodating for us?"

She sighed deeply before whispering, "he thought I was his daughter."

"Jory," Wyl came by then with a small smile on his face. Jory held his sister tightly to him and nodded. "We were able to catch a small boar."

The men worked quickly to skin their kill and dispose of the insides. Jory put some slabs of meat on the side for Nysa to salt and wrap to preserve it for the journey. He instructed the men then that they would keep close to the Kingsroad but not travel on it. They'd stop at an Inn in the Riverlands. As of right now, Jory didn't trust anyone since they were still located in the Crownlands. All the guards agreed that that was the safest option.

"We'll have to worry about the Lannister army raiding in the Riverlands," Desmond added.

"A small group of men may be of no consequence to them," Jory disagreed, "we can get by undetected."

"Ser Jamie is with them. If he recognizes any of us," Wyl began.

"The main thing is that the young Lady and my sister get back safely." Jory looked around at the group and know that any one of them would sacrifice themselves for both Lady Arya and his sister. "Lord Stark sent Harwin out with Ser Beric to stop them. Perhaps they've been pushed back, we need to think about that. There is word that young Lord Robb has been leading some Northmen down. They could be in the Riverlands as we speak," Jory explained. "If we can get to them then, we stand a chance."

Cayn nodded and threw the last piece of pork into his mouth. "If anything happens to me..."

"It won't," Jory said in a firm tone.

"There were fifty of us, now there are less than ten," he replied. "If something happens to me, I want whoever goes back to Winterfell to tell my son that I love him. Tell him that I am proud of him and to look after his mother when Winter comes."

"You can tell him yourself," Jory responded to Cayn, "because we're all going back home."

Jory looked over at Nysa to see her talking quietly with Arya. They had been tying up the last sack of meat, saving it for their journey. He would have to remember to thank Ser Preston one day - if they ever met again - for giving them enough supplies for their journey. He knew the men could survive, but Nysa and Arya might be a little needy. The Inn at the Crossroads was the best place he figured. They could rest in a bed, have a warm bath and real meal.

In the middle of the night, he heard light whimpering and wondered if that was his sister. But as he looked over towards where she slept, Arya was tucked into Nysa's side, her shoulders wracking with grief.

"I'm going to kill him, one day," a little girl's voice could be heard.

"I know," his sister replied.

"I mean it, Nysa. All of them," he saw Arya bury her head into Nysa's arm and sniff back her tears, "I'm going to kill all of them!"

* * *

"The Stark boy appears to be less green than we hoped," Tyrion commented.

"I hear his wolf killed a dozen men," Lord Crakehall stated, "and about as much horses."

"Is it true," Lord Lefford began, "about Stannis and Renly?"

"Both Baratheon brothers have taken up against us," Ser Kevan replied. "Jamie captured, his army scattered. It's a catastrophe. Perhaps we should sue for peace," he suggested to his brother.

Tyrion shook his head and threw his cup down on the floor. Every head, including his father's, turned to look at him. "There's your peace," he pointed to the floor. "Joffrey saw to that when he decided to remove Ned Stark's head. You'll have an easier time drinking out of that cup than you will bringing Robb Stark to the table now."

Tyrion looked around at the other Lords, his Uncle deep in thought.

"He's winning," Tyrion added, "in case you hadn't noticed."

"I'm told we still have his sisters," Ser Kevan replied.

"The first order of business is ransoming Ser Jamie," Lord Crakehall argued.

"No truces, we can't afford to look weak," argued Lord Brax, "we must march on them at once!"

"First, we must return to Casterly Rock," Ser Kevan shook his head.

Tyrion watched as the Lords continued to argue among themselves. It was then that his father's voice was heard above everyone else present.

"They have my son!" Tywin turned to look at all his Lords and dismissed them. "Get out all of you," he motioned before his eyes settled on Tyrion, "not you."

Tyrion walked to where his father was, joining him on the front side of the table. Tywin surprised him by pouring a healthy measure of wine into his cup. Tywin shocked his son further when he began talking.

"You were right," he confessed as Tyrion's eyes narrowed, "about Eddard Stark," his father finished.

Tyrion nodded and drank some of his wine.

"If he were alive, we could've used him to broker a peace with Winterfell and Riverrun." Tywin sighed heavily. "Which would have given us more time to deal with Robert's brothers," he looked away and contemplated it. "But now," he shook his head, turning back to Tyrion, "madness, madness and stupidity." Tywin watched his son carefully. "I always thought you were a stunted fool. Perhaps I was wrong."

"Half wrong," Tyrion chuckled nervously. "I'm new to strategy but unless we want to be surrounded by three armies it appears we can't stay here."

Tywin sighed. "No one will stay here. Ser Gregor will head out with five hundred riders and set the Riverlands on fire from Gods Eye to the Red Fork. The rest of us will regroup at Harrenhall."

Tyrion nodded, liking the sound of that plan.

"And you will go to King's Landing."

For a moment, he wondered if there was someone else in the tent that his father was addressing. "And do what?"

"Rule," Tywin answered with a twitch of his lips. Tyrion stared at his father as though he had grown two heads. "You will serve as Hand of the King in my stead. You'll bring that boy king to heel, and his mother too," Tywin advised his son, "if needs be."

It was obvious that Cersei had done nothing to stop this madness and stupidity. His two eldest children, the ones whom he often considered his pride and joy - true Lannisters - had somehow failed him. He had to make sure that this son would do the right thing.

"Your brother and sister had trouble with a maiden," Tywin began, "a maiden belonging to Ned Stark's household."

Tyrion nodded. "Ah yes, the girl."

"You've met her," Tywin raised an eyebrow at his son.

He drank his cup and went to reach for the pitcher again but Tywin was quick to refill his son's cup. "She is a bastard from the North. Her mother is from the South. It's the reason why she went with Ned Stark, to find her family and serve as Sansa's lady-in-waiting when she becomes Queen." Tywin grunted in acknowledgement. "What trouble has there been?"

"She shot an arrow at your brother."

"And lived to tell the tale," Tyrion raised his cup before drinking from it.

"I want you to bring control to the Capital," Tywin told his son. "I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense. Reign in the lions before they run wild," he instructed. "And if you get so much as a whiff of treason from any of the rest," Tywin said as Tyrion tilted his head. "Baelish, Varys, Pycelle..."

"Heads, spikes, walls," Tyrion answered in understanding. "Why not my uncle," he blinked his eyes in shock. "Why not anyone? Why me?"

"You're my son."

* * *

"We must pledge fealty to Renly and move South to join our forces with his," Ser Wylis said.

"Renly is not the King," Robb spoke out.

"You cannot mean to yield to Joffrey, my Lord," Ser Wylis turned to him. "He put your father to death."

"That doesn't make Renly the King. He's Robert's youngest brother," he announced loudly turning to the rest of his Lords. His, he thought as a few of them nodded. "Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me, Renly can't be King before Stannis."

"Do you mean to declare us for Stannis," questioned Lord Hornwood.

"Stannis is not right," someone shouted and they began to murmur.

"My Lords," the Greatjon stood up, "my Lords," he bellowed as everyone quieted down. "Here is what I say to these two Kings," and he spat on the ground. A few of them lifted their cups and cheered. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis either," he looked around the camp as the Lords agreed with him. "Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the South?"

Robb paused for a moment and wondered what the Greatjon was speaking of. Did he mean to ride against every claim to the Iron Throne? Surely not, the Greatjon was smarter than that.

"What do they know of the Wall or Wolfswood," asked Lord Umber.

"Nothing," Lord Glover agreed with him.

"Even their Gods are wrong," he chuckled.

Robb licked his lips and looked down, still in confusion as to who the Greatjon was encouraging them towards.

"Why," he said slowly, "shouldn't we rule ourselves again," he questioned looking around as the laughing died down. "It was the dragons we bowed to, and now the dragons are dead. There," he pulled out his sword and gestured towards Robb, "sits the only King I mean to bend my knee to," he looked at Robb. "The King in the North!"

Robb was shocked. He sat there as Lord Umber - a man he had looked up to, one who his father trusted - had bent his knee, declaring Robb to be not just his Lord, but his King. He had gone from being their Lord to becoming their King.

He slowly stood up and nodded to the Greatjon.

"I'll have peace on those terms," Harrion Karstark stood up immediately. "They can keep their red castle and their iron chair too," he took out his sword and walked to face Robb in the front. "To the King in the North!" It was not long until Eddard and Torrhen did the same and bowed their heads to him.

"Am I your brother," Theon asked as Robb turned his head away from House Karstark, "now and always?"

"Now and always," Robb answered.

Theon walked towards the rest of them, taking out his sword and kneeling before Robb. "My sword is yours, in victory and defeat. From this day until my last day," Theon declared.

"The King in the North," Lord Umber shouted.

And one by one, all the Northern Lords withdrew their swords and knelt before their new King. Robb's heart began to beat faster as he looked back at his mother, the only person who was sitting down while everyone else had their heads bowed to him.

 _This is the North, my son. You will become Lord of not just Winterfell but the entire North one day. They will look to you._

"King in the North! King in the North! King in the North!"

* * *

Nysa felt a hand cover her mouth and immediately she tossed and turned, reaching for her brother's dagger. Jory pressed against her harder and made a motion for her to be quiet. When he motioned behind him, Nysa noticed that a few of the men were gone.

"There's a group of men approaching," Jory said quietly.

"I thought we were too far in from the Kingsroad for anyone to notice us," she whispered.

"We are," he assured her.

Nysa shook Arya awake and after some grumbling, Arya was prepared to grab her sword and fight anything that was to come out from the bushes. Nysa pushed her behind and raised her bow as Jory told them to stay put. Cayn and Desmond took out their swords and dropped into a stance in front of them. Her heart was beating fast. She didn't think they'd send a search party after them so quickly. A branch snapping shifted their attention to the left.

A breath of relief fell from her lips when she saw that Wyl was the first to appear. He was unharmed and well, causing Nysa to lower her bow. She waited until she saw the other guards appear. After them, came a man dressed in black. She remembered seeing him from King's Landing.

"It's a member of the Night's Watch," Wyl nodded his head towards him.

Jory nodded and went to shake his hand.

"You're a long way from where you're heading," the Night's Watch told them. "Well if it isn't the boy," he looked past Jory and straight at Arya."

"I'm not a boy," Arya narrowed her eyes at him.

"You are heading North, am I right?"

"We are, friend," Jory told him.

"Yoren," he replied. "Same as us," Yoren nodded before glancing around. "I'm assuming that your little party is the reason why I had trouble leaving King's Landing," his eyes caught Nysa's and the bow around her shoulders, "and the reason why King Joffrey doesn't leave the Keep without his Kingsguard around him."

"He deserved it," Nysa held her head high.

"Aye, that he did," Yoren chuckled again. "That only means that the gold on your head," he drew his dagger and pointed to her with it, "has tripled. You're worth a pretty price, more than this lot I got following me."

"Joffrey would have to get through all of us first," Alyn drew his sword and Yoren chuckled as they all began to do it, again.

"I'm not turning you in," he shook his head, "I have no interest in doing so. I respect House Stark, I always have. Lord Stark treated us kindly, the men of the Night's Watch. There's nothing more honorable than to serve as a Night's Watch in the eyes of House Stark."

"You protect us, protect the entire Realm," Arya stated.

"See," he gestured to Arya, "that is why I like you, why I'd come here and offer for you to journey with us."

"Why should we journey with you," asked Wyl.

"Strength in numbers," Yoren answered, "and with the King looking for a party travelling North, they'd question all of you. I, on the other hand, I'm handling duties belonging to the Night's Watch."

"There's a reason for him to be headed North," Jory nodded in agreement as he thought the situation over, "we would be able to travel on the Kingsroad - which would save us time. And our main concern is getting back to Winterfell."

"So, we're in agreement," Yoren looked around as the guards slowly nodded and put their swords back. When they had all nodded, Yoren grabbed Arya by her shoulder and slashed his dagger through her hair.

"Stop," Nysa shouted.

"Trust me, boy," Yoren gritted out.

"I'm not a boy," Arya protested.

"What are you doing," Nysa screamed.

"Do you want to live? You're a boy then. You want to go back to the North, you best cut the other one, too," Yoren instructed.

Nysa grabbed her braid and shook her head.

"We have a long way to travel and in bad company. I have 20 men. Lord Stark let me choose from the dungeon. Half would turn you all over to the King as quick for a pardon and gold," Yoren told them as he sliced another strand of Arya's hair off her head. "And the Lannisters have much of it."

"Surely they wouldn't," Nysa ran her fingers through the ends of her hair.

Yoren chuckled and shook his head. "The other half would do the same, only they'd rape you first."

"We wouldn't allow it," Jory protested.

"Aye, you'd do your best to protect your sister and the little lady," Yoren continued his work. "But it would end with a couple of you being dead. I can't watch you all the time. And imagine what would happen if we're spotted on the road," he turned to Jory.

"We're traveling with the Night's Watch," Jory shook his head, "they wouldn't question..."

"They wouldn't question why two young women are with us," Yoren snorted before throwing a blade in Jory's direction. "Cut her hair! She's a boy now."

Nysa took a step back and shook her head at her brother. "He's right," Jory argued. "If they see two young women, especially you. They'll know. You shot an arrow at the King. They want your head. We have been there for months; the guards know how you look. We can easily hide among the men," he gestured to everyone who began to strip off their clothes with Stark colors. "But if they see you..."

"Must I," Nysa's lip began to tremble.

"It's the only way."

"Just do it, Nysa." She turned to see Arya's hair had been cut, Yoren trying to fluff it around. Arya caught her eyes, "We wouldn't want to draw attention. Jory and Yoren are right, they'll raise questions if they see a girl in the Night Watch's company."

* * *

"First," Robb began, "your family must release my sisters and the young lady, Nysa. Her Uncle wishes for to come home," he nodded to Ser Rodrik. "Second, my father's bones must be returned to us so that he may rest next to his brother and his sister in the crypts at Winterfell. The remains of all those who have died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honor them with proper funerals," he looked over to one of the guards from Winterfell before turning back.

"An honorable request, your Grace," Alton Lannister nodded.

"Third," his tone turned serious, "Joffrey and the Queen regent must renounce all claim of dominion over the North. From this time to the end of time, we are a free and independent Kingdom."

"King in the North," Ser Rodrik nodded in approval.

"King in the North," Lord Karstark agreed as the rest of them.

"Neither Joffrey nor any of his men shall set foot in our lands again," Robb declared. "If he disregards this command, then he shall suffer the same fate as my father. Only," Robb sneered, "I don't need a servant to do my beheading for me."

Alton tried not to look afraid. "These are, your Grace..."

Robb stood up, making himself taller than he could appear. "These are my terms. If the Queen regent and her son meet them, I'll give them peace. If not," he paused, "I will litter the South with Lannister dead."

"King Joffrey is a Baratheon," Alton corrected, "your Grace."

"Oh, is he," Robb smiled lightly. "You'll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton." The terms were handed to him. "That will be all for tonight."

Alton was led away by Torrhen - back to where he was being held until he would be sent to King's Landing. Robb turned away from the table as all his Lords began to exit the tent. He stared out among the men, he needed the Queen to agree to these terms. He had lost a lot of Northmen as it was. He didn't need any more lost on his account.

"A word, your Grace," Theon asked as he stepped beside him.

"You don't have to call me your Grace when no one's around," Robb looked at his childhood friend.

"It's not so bad," Theon laughed, "once you get used to it."

"I'm glad someone has gotten used to it."

"Lannisters are going to reject your terms, you know?"

"Of course they are," Robb nodded.

"You can fight them in the field as long as you like," Theon began, "We won't beat them until you take King's Landing. We can't take King's Landing unless we have ships," Theon encouraged as Robb turned to him slightly. "My father has ships and men who know how to sail them."

"Men who've fought my father," Robb reminded him.

"Then fought King Robert to free themselves from the South, just like you're doing now," Theon pointed out.

Robb turned away and looked back out at the men once more. "He wouldn't..."

"I'm his only living son. He'll listen to me," Theon replied, "I know he will. I'm not a Stark, I know that," he said causing Robb to sigh. "But your father raised me to be an honorable man. We can avenge him together."

Robb nodded and placed a hand on Theon's shoulder. "You ride out in the morning."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"And if the King listens to what I say, the King might just get his Uncle Jamie back," Tyrion commented.

"How," Cersei asked trying to sound unconcerned.

"You love your children," Tyrion noted, "it's your one redeeming quality. That and your cheekbones," he teased. "Starks love their children as well and we have two of them."

Cersei looked away before confessing, "one."

Tyrion shook his head. "One?"

"Arya, the little animal," Cersei smiled, "she disappeared."

"Disappeared," Tyrion repeated, "what? In a puff of smoke," he chuckled at seeing how uncomfortable his sister got. It was not like her to be this way.

"That girl," Cersei narrowed her eyes. "I don't know how she did it."

"Arya?"

"Nysa Snow," Cersei shouted as she stood from her seat.

Tyrion leaned back and drank from his cup. "Ah yes, her. I heard from father that she shot an arrow at Jamie," he chuckled and set his cup down. "And yet the both of you let her live. We're getting a bit slack aren't we," he laughed at her.

"Jamie wouldn't do it. I don't know why but he refused to," Cersei walked around the table angrily.

"And you?"

"There never was opportunity to..."

"Never an opportunity and yet she was able to help the little Arya Stark escape the City," Tyrion chuckled again before tilting his head. "I asked her to inform me of who her mother was when she found out. She is an interesting thing. I wish I would have been here to see what havoc she caused for my two eldest siblings."

"Baelish believes that she is Stark's daughter."

"Ned Stark is too honorable..."

"He has one already."

"One," Tyrion admitted, "and that one is a bright young man. Strong yet depressing at times. I hope he beds a woman soon," he shook his head.

"He's at the Wall and there are..."

"Vows, yes," he finished for her, "but we all know that not everyone follows through on their vows now, do we," he eyed his sister before taking another drink. "Is that all you discovered on the young Snow girl."

"Varys believes her to be Lady Ashara Dayne's daughter."

"A great beauty, I heard," Tyrion commented. Cersei walked back towards the chair and sat down slowly. "That's all that you have on her, isn't it? My sister - as conniving as you are..."

"Yes," she screeched. "That is all I have, all that anyone has been able to gather on her," she sat back in her chair. "She had been in my grasp for months and yet she never broke, not once."

"I have an inkling that she might be a Lannister," Tyrion remarked as Cersei snorted. "She outsmarted you and Jamie."

"Outsmarted the guards," Cersei stated with a far-off look. "She almost took Sansa out of the Capital as well." Cersei glanced at Tyrion before looking away.

"Yes," he drank the rest of his wine, "I do believe the girl's mother could be a Lannister. How else would she have been able to do the things she did? In truth, she did a better job at being a Lannister than you." Cersei shook her head. "We had three Starks to trade. You chopped one's head off and let another escape. Father would be furious. Must be hard for you?" His sister turned to him. "To be the disappointing child," he smiled as she felt the sense of failure overcome her.

She stood up and walked towards the window. "She had someone helping her."

"Are we still speaking of the bastard girl?" Cersei leaned against the window but turned to face her brother. "They say when one is guilty of a crime they like to use misdirection to place the blame or fault on others." She narrowed her eyes before looking away at the wall. "Am I being too much for you, sister? Should I leave?"

"You spoke with the girl?"

"Only in Winterfell," he answered.

"She had friends here."

"How could she have friends here," Tyrion questioned. "She grew up in the North, raised among Lord Stark's children," he scoffed. "The girl didn't know a bloody soul pass the Neck."

"Who is her mother," Cersei screeched throwing up her arms in an ungraceful manner. "Who is her House? They've been undermining us this whole time."

"No," Tyrion said in a firm tone, "this young woman has been undermining _you_. Why else do you think father has sent me here? You were too concerned with other matters that you forgot what is at stake. We need to focus on the larger scale of things, sister. We are losing a war. It is time for Joffrey to stop acting like a spoiled child."

* * *

Nysa rolled her eyes at seeing her brother and Alyn standing a distance away from her and Arya. They had just come back from relieving themselves. She assured her brother that they were never spotted - they did it in the early morning before everyone rose. But Jory still liked to keep watch to make sure it was only her and Arya out there.

"Where's Arya?"

"Who," Alyn titled his head at her.

She rolled her eyes then. "I meant Ari," she clarified. "Where is Ari?"

"You mean, you've lost her," Alyn teased as Nysa went to run around the camp grounds.

Nysa had almost grabbed her skirts - a natural impulse - when she remembered that she was donning a tunic, breeches and her hair was cut short. She had cried that day when they joined Yoren and his group heading North. She cried later that night. And despite her brother wanting to comfort her, he knew that it was best not to or she would appear weak. Arya on the other hand - seemed to be getting along just fine with her appearance.

Nysa had just reached the edge of camp when Cayn appeared by her side. "Ari went to fetch wood." She nodded and went to do the same.

As she walked back towards camp, she noticed Arya talking with _that boy_ again. This was not the first time that Nysa had seen Arya speaking with Gendry. She didn't like it. But Jory and the others dismissed her, saying that it was nothing to worry about. The girl enjoyed talking to someone other than them. She remembered that there were a few boys who had given Arya a troublesome time when they first arrived. Gendry had come to her defense. Perhaps that could be a reason why.

She sighed and was about to turn away when she noticed a small band of horses riding on the road ahead. Nysa dropped the wood and ran towards Arya then.

"What," Arya questioned as Nysa grabbed her and tried to quiet her down.

"The gold-cloaks," Nysa nodded towards the front.

Arya gasped lightly and scurried after Nysa to hide under the bridge. Nysa took out her dagger from her boot and narrowed her eyes at the two men. "What are you two doing," Gendry asked.

"They're after us," Arya answered before Nysa could stop her. Gendry looked them over a bit before turning back to look at Yoren who began discussing matters with them.

"We have a warrant," one of the gold cloaks announced, "for one of these gutter rats you're transporting."

"Or perhaps they just want you," Arya turned to look at Nysa.

"I did shoot an arrow at Joffrey," she whispered in acknowledgement.

Gendry turned back at them.

"Please," Arya said softly to him.

Nysa looked up into his eyes and noticed there was both shock and caution hidden beneath them. He was wondering what they could be hiding but she didn't think too much on it when he nodded at Arya and looked away. Arya tapped her side - the sword attached to her belt and Nysa looked around to see where her brother was.

On the opposite end, some of the men were also watching Yoren and the guards. Jory took out his sword and nodded to Nysa.

"There are only two of them," Nysa whispered to Arya. "If there is any sign of trouble..."

"We could outrun them," Arya agreed, "or better yet, we could fight them off."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Nysa shook her head.

The other men began to move when the gold cloak attempted to pull out his sword. Yoren drew his dagger at the same time. "Funny thing," Yoren began. "People worry so much about their throats that they forget about what's down below. Now I sharpened this blade before breakfast, I could shave a spider's ass if I wanted to. Or," he moved the guard's cloak and Nysa tried to hide Arya's face from the scene. "Once it's nicked, there's no one else around here that knows how to un-nick it. We'll just keep that," Yoren reached for the sword and threw it somewhere.

Nysa turned back to see Cayn and Desmond slowly put away their swords. She put the dagger back into her boots and pulled herself back onto the bridge - urging Arya to stay put until it was all clear. Gendry came to stand tall at her side also.

"Go back to your City and tell your Masters, you didn't find what you were looking for," Yoren told them.

The one in the back seemed ready to ride but the other refused. He turned towards the men, his eyes searching around. "We're looking for a boy named Gendry," he announced as Nysa's eyes narrowed at the boy in front of her. He turned back to look at her. "He carries a bull's head helmet." Nysa looked down at Arya who was watching Gendry. "Anyone turning him over, will earn a King's reward. We'll be back with more men," he leaned down towards Yoren and uttered a threat that Nysa didn't catch.

Gendry looked down as Arya climbed out. Almost every man who was there turned to look at Gendry. Nysa stood there, wondering for a moment why they had been sent for him and not for her or Arya. Arya was Lord Stark's daughter, surely they'd want her to threaten Robb with obedience. And they'd want Nysa for murdering the Lannister guards and the attempt on Joffrey's life. But why in seven hells would they want Gendry - some low-born boy from King's Landing?

Yoren looked back at Nysa and Gendry before looking at the men. "Well, what are you all looking at, you sorry sons of whores," Yoren barked as everyone started to shuffle about.

Nysa quickly grabbed Arya and pulled her away from the boy who seemed more important to Joffrey than his assassin.

It must have been in the middle of the day when Nysa had lost Arya again. Jory reminded Nysa that she didn't need constant looking after or else someone would think something suspicious.

"What is suspicious is that Joffrey sent men to look for Gendry and not Arya or me," Nysa pondered.

"Thinking a bit high and mighty of ourselves, aren't we," teased Wyl as Nysa poured the water into the barrel.

"I'm just saying that..."

"Stop talking," Yoren came by her then. "You sound weird, boy!"

It was then that Nysa sighed and remembered that she was posing as a boy. She carried her buckets and left Jory and the others to their work as she went back down to the river. Half-way there she ended up slipping and dropping one of the buckets.

"Did you need help with that?" She looked up to see Gendry's hand.

"I can do it myself," she answered quickly hurrying down towards the river.

"I'm sure you can. But Yoren has been working us hard and perhaps..."

"Why don't you ask someone else," she turned on him.

Gendry looked taken aback for a moment before stalking past her. "If you let the bucket slip again, they may think you a girl," his head moved to peer over his shoulder at her, "which you aren't, right?"

Nysa took a deep breath before following him. Did he see her and Arya earlier this morning? She didn't want to make it seem as though he knew something so she continued down the path. Gendry got there before her and began talking to Lommy and Hot Pie. She looked at his backside and couldn't help but think that he was a decent looking young man. He was probably the same age as her, Robb and Jon. She tilted her head to the side wondering - for perhaps the hundredth time - why the gold cloaks were after him. What had he done that was so bad that Joffrey and Cersei wanted him? She watched him quietly as he sneered at Hot Pie - a large boy that had threatened Arya. He was younger than Nysa - she knew that much.

"How did you know he was a knight," Gendry asked, causing Nysa to look over at Hot Pie.

"Well, 'cause he's got armor on," Hot Pie answered slowly.

"You don't have to be a knight to have armor. Any idiot can buy armor."

"How would you know?"

"Because I sold armor," Gendry said to Hot Pie as he started to collect some water.

Arya was already there, smiling at Gendry. Nysa paused and hoped that it was at Gendry's statement and not Gendry himself. She'd had to keep a closer look on Arya as they traveled on their journey. She did not feel things for Torrhen until she was thirteen and she did not think much of Robb until she was fifteen. Arya was twelve. Gendry turned around then and reached for her bucket and began filling it the same that he did with his. She supposed that he was good-looking, his dark hair and blue eyes. Nysa moved on the side, out of Lommy and Hot Pie's way as they argued about battles and fighting.

"What do the gold cloaks want with you?" Nysa whipped her head around to see Arya had come to stand by them.

"No idea," he answered, giving Nysa her buckets.

"You're a liar."

She'd chastise Arya later.

"You shouldn't insult people that are bigger than you."

Arya rolled her eyes, "then I wouldn't get to insult anyone." She went to walk after Gendry. Nysa grabbed her arm. "What can't I do now?"

"We don't know why they're after him. What if he did something bad?"

"What could be worse than murdering my father," Arya asked as she pulled her arm free and followed Gendry.

Nysa sighed and turned the other way to drop off the water in her bucket. She continued working, trying to ignore the sight of Arya following Gendry, talking quietly with him about something. The second time she went back to the river and filled her bucket, she saw Gendry smiling at Arya before he bowed his head. What shocked her next was that Arya pushed him. Gendry began laughing and said something to her, causing Arya to push him down again. Gendry began to laugh as Nysa hurried up towards the two of them.

"What happened," Nysa asked Arya who began stomping away.

"Stupid bull," she retorted before continuing to walk away.

"What was that all about?" Nysa turned to Gendry to see him smiling and watching Arya walk away. "I asked you a question!"

"What are you," Gendry chuckled, "her sister?"

"I'm," Nysa began before pausing, "what did you just say?"

Gendry shook his head and began to stand up, dusting the dirt off before walking towards Nysa. He took the bucket from her hand and poured it into the barrel. "I know who she is and I'm guess my assumption about you being a girl is correct, too."

Before he could finish, Nysa was on him in a flash. Her brother's dagger in her hand, dangerously close to Gendry's throat. "If you so much as breath a word of..."

Gendry grabbed her hand, pushing it behind him in the dirt and pushing her off. Nysa was quick, and kicked out her leg, nudging Gendry back with her shoulder. After another maneuver of her body, using her legs and the ground, she was able to pin Gendry on his back again.

"My brother is captain of the guard, my Uncle is a knight - master at arms," she narrowed her eyes at him, "I was raised among guards, trained to use a sword and bow, don't think for one moment that you could best me. Now about her," Nysa gestured behind her.

"I'm not telling anyone who she is," he grunted before moving his leg to kick her off. She fell back gently, using her hands to brace herself before narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm not, alright? I have no need to."

Nysa nodded slowly and put the dagger back into her boot. They sat quietly for a while before he stood up, brushed his hand against his breeches before holding it out for her. She eyed it for a bit before allowing him to pull her up.

"Lord Stark raised me among his own children," Nysa began. "It's like she's my sister," she answered his earlier question.

Gendry nodded and grabbed the buckets, preparing to walk back down to the river again. Nysa followed him slowly until he turned around. "By the way Ser Ilyn Payne," he smiled, "lost his hand after Lord Stark's execution." Nysa looked at him in confusion. "Apparently, someone in the crowd shot an arrow at him, landed in his wrist."

"I was aiming for his head," Nysa responded before looking away, "my brother came and pushed me down."

Gendry smiled. "I suppose you do know how to use a bow after all."

* * *

"What are you doing watching him?" Nysa turned her head sharply towards her brother. "Gendry," he nodded towards the young man, "you seem to watch him."

"Arya told him who she is," Nysa looked away, back to watching Gendry. "He said he wouldn't tell, even after I drew a dagger on him. He knew, he could tell that she and I weren't boys."

"You don't trust him," asked Alyn, without looking her way. His eyes were closed and he was laying with his back on the ground.

"I don't trust Arya," she answered as Alyn, Wyl and Desmond sat up from their positions to look at her. "She didn't have to give him that information so freely. And lately," she narrowed her eyes at Gendry, "lately they've been spending time together."

Jory chuckled and shook his head. "If you're speaking about what I think you are, the little Lady is still a bit young to fancy boys."

"And this is the Lady Arya we're talking of," Wyl shook his head before resting it back on his bundle of fur. "The Wall will melt before she ever fancied a boy."

"She misses her brothers," Porther added as he threw a stick into the fire. "She could very well just be filling the void."

"You're all here," Nysa interjected as Jory sighed.

He motioned for his sister to move closer to him. She got up and went to sit at his side. "I remember the day that the little Lady was born. You were in the room with Lady Catelyn, helping Maester Luwin and the other nurses. They said that you were the first one to carry her," Jory smiled gently at his sister. "They also said that Lady Catelyn was so proud of you, sister. You handled the situation better than she thought you would. It's the reason why you went to help Lady Karstark and Lady Glover when they were with child or even Lady Umber when she had trouble with her daughter. But no matter how many other daughters in the North are born, you always hold Lady Arya close to your heart."

Nysa nodded, "she was the first child I was present for when she was born."

"Nothing can replace that bond," Jory told her, "the same way nothing can replace the bond Arya has with her brothers. We may have been there to watch her grow, may have seen her with you in the yard, learning the bow. We may swear on our lives to protect her, to pledge our loyalty to House Stark," Jory looked back at Arya, "but only she can determine who she holds in high regard. Let her have this friendship with the young boy," he implored his sister. "She has lost much already; do you really want to deprive her of his company?"

She didn't like it but she listened to her brother. She allowed Arya to ride in the wagon next to Gendry, talk to him as they collected wood or water, and even lay her fur next to him for the night. Nysa threatened Gendry a second time when that happened, reminding him that Arya was a high-born Lady.

"Do you really think I'm stupid," he questioned turning to eye her out.

"No," Nysa shook her head.

Gendry stopped his task and leaned back casually against a tree. He crossed his hands one in front of the other and looked intently at her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Arya doesn't always follow the rules. She doesn't like dresses or sewing or anything proper. She might forget that," Nysa paused and played with her fingers, unsure of how to word her next sentence. "You use foul language around her," she blurted out.

"I apologized to her for that and I am trying to talk politely to her but she is difficult."

"That's how Arya is," Nysa closed her eyes before taking a few steps back. "I just," she groaned in frustration, unable to formulate her thoughts without coming across as rude or cruel. "Could you perhaps, be a bit cautious with how you treat her?"

"She isn't delicate," he shrugged.

"I know she isn't. Arya is tough as they come, she's from the North. But there are certain boundaries and..."

"I understand," Gendry pushed off the tree, "believe me, I understand."

"What does that mean?"

Gendry started working once again, not looking back at Nysa. Either way she found herself intrigued. She followed him towards the wagon to see him loading up their stuff for the next leg of their journey. "I didn't grow up in the same circumstances as Arry, neither did I have luxuries like you. I don't know who my father was. I barely even remember my Mum."

"You're a bastard," she whispered.

"Aye, I am," he turned to her looking a bit angry.

"So am I."

Gendry shook his head and put on a sarcastic smirk. "You really do think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"No!"

"You behave like a Lady - more than Arry does," he nodded towards her direction.

"I told you, Lord Stark raised me among his own."

"Now why would a Lord do such a thing unless you were one of his," he titled his head to the side.

She shook her head. "My father was a knight who died serving House Stark," Nysa answered. Gendry watched her for a moment before his eyes searched out her brother. "He is my father's true-born son, the only one that remains. My other brothers died during infancy."

"You don't share the same mother," he stated instead of questioning. The answer was obvious. And if Gendry might add, she looked nothing like her brother. Perhaps in their personalities there were some similarities. Other than that, her hair was darker, her eyes were fiercer and her skin was just slightly tanned. "You were never treated as a bastard, were you?"

"Not until I came to the South," she answered honestly.

He nodded thoughtfully before handing her a bucket. They continued to work quietly, it was best that way.

Gendry enjoyed Arry's company, despite how irritating she could get. And for some reason Gendry was being to enjoy Nysan's company too. He knew that wasn't their names but he continued to call them that. Someone would discover them and he did not want that discovery to come from him. He wouldn't let their names slip, not even once.

* * *

Robb patted the horse - envying it. Why on earth was he envying a beast? He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

"Is something wrong with the horse, your Grace," Olyvar Frey came quickly to his side.

"No Olyvar," Robb smiled at him, "I just wish for a moment that I was this horse."

"Your Grace," Olyvar was confused.

"This horse is going back North, going back to Winterfell," Robb answered as Olyvar nodded.

Olyvar Frey was a year older than Robb. He was one of the many Frey soldiers that were there - part of his agreement with Lord Walder Frey to allow them to pass into the Riverlands without having to face the Lannister forces head on. Olyvar was a good fighter - compared to some of his brothers and cousins. Among them were many a Frey knights. Some of them had gone with Lord Bolton to meet Lord Tywin's forces - a tactical move that Robb was praised for among his newly acquired bannermen including not just House Frey but also many of the Riverlands who had come to him after his mother's Uncle, Ser Brynden had bend the knee, acknowledging him as not only King of the North but King of the Trident.

Robb sighed and thought about the rest of his agreement with Lord Walder - two Frey daughter for two Stark sons, one for Robb and the other for Bran or Rickon. He leaned his head against the horse's neck.

"Are you sure nothing is wrong with the horse?"

Robb smiled and pulled back, turning to see Ser Rodrik standing there. "It gets to go back home," Robb confessed as Ser Rodrik nodded for Olyvar to leave the two of them.

Ser Rodrik watched as his King - a boy of sixteen - showed a sign of weakness, a weakness that his men did not need to see.

"I told my brothers that I was bringing my father home, that I was bringing Sansa and Arya home," Robb said as Ser Rodrik stood there with his head lifted high. "I don't even know what has happened to your family, to Nysa or Jory. I don't know which of the guards are dead, which ones are alive, which ones are being tortured. My mother reminded me that Sansa's letter barely mentions Arya or Nysa or anyone else," Robb shook his head. "I don't know anything," he looked down, "I don't know!"

Ser Rodrik took a step forward. "I remember your father once in the same position you are in. His father and brother murdered by the Mad King," Ser Rodrik said, "his sister taken from him."

"A sister he never got back," Robb's voice cracked.

"He gained much though on his journey back," Ser Rodrik reminded him, "he brought back your mother and _you_. I lost a brother but his daughter came back with us," he added. "There is always uncertainty, there will always be things that we do not know or simply cannot understand."

Robb started when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Ser Rodrik standing there beside him.

"You will never know everything, your Grace. It's what you do when confronted with the unexpected that makes you who you are. And what you are doing now, believe me, is the best anyone can do in your position."

"I could have done better," Robb wiped his face angrily - frustrated that he was displaying such emotions. But Ser Rodrik didn't concern himself with that.

"Aye, we all could have," Ser Rodrik replied. "But there is no going back, no changing of the past. If I knew today that my brother would die when we left the North, would I have stopped him?" Ser Rodrik chuckled. "If I did that, who's to say that your father would have lived? We cannot dwell on something we wished we could have done differently. We might not like the change."

Robb swallowed and shook his head. "I would trade places with my father."

"And I with my brother, my nephew, my niece - if they are the ones who have fallen," he agreed, "but we are here and we are left to deal with everything else."

"I don't know if I can do it."

Ser Rodrik sighed and patted Robb on the back. "I know you can. You're a Stark."

"I'm not my father."

"No one is asking you to be."

"They look at me as though I am," Robb turned to him.

"They look at you because you are their King," he reminded Robb.

Robb nodded before waiting a moment. He looked up at Ser Rodrik. The knight saw the young boy he had trained for many years appear before him again. "My brothers..."

"I will guard them with my life, your Grace," Ser Rodrik confirmed. "I will speak of your father and mother to them, every day. You forget I have loss three wives and many daughters. I know the suffering of such grief." Robb nodded again and watched as Ser Rodrik mounted his horse. "You will return home, perhaps with a new family - a larger family. Do not worry about Winterfell, your Grace. I have protected it and the people within its walls for years."

"Safe journey, Ser Rodrik," Robb told him as Ser Rodrik pulled away.

With his mother having journeyed to treat with Renly and Ser Rodrik gone back to the North - Robb felt vulnerable once again. He walked slowly back towards his tent and was greeted with the sight of the Smalljon and a few others.

"I did not know I called for a meeting," Robb looked around at them.

"I called for it," the Smalljon smiled widely - perhaps joyful that he had come up with the suggestion.

"What is wrong," Robb asked, immediately thinking that they had received a raven from his sister, his mother or the North.

"Nothing yet," Lady Dacey answered. "But with your mother gone and Ser Rodrik back to the North to protect your brothers, Smalljon suggested that someone should protect you as well."

Robb snorted. "I know how to fight."

"I was not questioning your skill with the sword, your Grace," Smalljon defend himself. "But every King has his own personal guard."

Robb thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "Like a Kingsguard," he asked.

"Not really," Smalljon shook his head, "I can't see myself taking vows of celibacy." He laughed along with the other men in the tent. Lady Dacey merely rolled her eyes.

"But you would perform the same sort of duties," Robb smiled as the Smalljon nodded. "Thank you for volunteering your services then."

"It would be an honor," Smalljon went to grab a cup of ale and began pouring others a cup.

"Lady Dacey," Robb nodded to her, "you have proved yourself a good fighter and a brave companion. Eddard and Torrhen," he nodded to the two of them, "we are kin, House Stark and Karstark. You are a loyal House. And Daryn," he looked towards the young Hornwood, "your father has marched with mine for years. I am glad to count all of you in my presence and have you as my personal guards."

"Aye," Smalljon cheered as they lifted their cups and drank their ale.

"We just need two more," Torrhen added.

"Two more," asked Lady Dacey.

"Aye," Daryn Hornwood replied, "there are seven who serve in the Kingsguard, supposedly to represent one from each of the seven Kingdoms."

Robb stood up immediately.

"Where are you going, your Grace," asked Eddard.

"I have been made King of the Trident," Robb answered as they walked around the camp. "It only fitting that I choose the remaining two from the Riverlands." Robb approached some of the Freys to find Olyvar standing beside one of his brothers. Other than Olyvar there was another Frey who had fought bravely. "Ser Perwyn," Robb nodded to him.

"Your Grace," Ser Perwyn bowed his head.

"I must object," Lady Dacey stopped Robb.

"There is only one reason why you object, my Lady," the Smalljon chuckled.

"He attempted to kiss Lady Dacey," Torrhen whispered behind Robb's back, informing Robb of the incident.

"Was it not welcomed," Robb turned to her.

"It was very welcomed," Smalljon added causing Dacey to punch him in the gut. She turned around quickly and marched off.

"I will speak to her later," Robb told them. "In the meantime, you must show respect to her Smalljon. Remember that Dacey is a Lady of House Mormont." He turned back to Frey knight to see that others had arrived. "Ser Perwyn, it has come to my attention that every King has a Kingsguard. Though, unlike the King who sits on the Iron throne, I will not forbid you from taking a wife or owning a land. If you wish to do so, then you may. But for the time being, I need men I can trust, men who are loyal, men who are brave, men who can advise me in my time of need. I have found a few," he smiled at the ones behind him. "And I find that I need more, like them," he turned back to Ser Perwyn, "like you."

Ser Perwyn looked around and saw the approvals of his brothers and cousins. He did not think that the King would have chosen him to serve as one of his personal guards, if anything he felt that they all would have come from the North. To be the first one selected who was from the Riverlands was considered an honor.

"Are there any words I need to recite," Ser Perwyn asked with a smile.

"We were just included without any but we'd say words if need be," Eddard Karstark answered.

Ser Perwyn drew out his sword and placed it on the ground, slowly kneeling. He would be the first to say this vow. "I am yours, my King," he nodded and looked up at Robb. "I vow to shield your back and give my life for yours. You will serve as my King, your wife as my Queen and I will protect those of your House and your blood," he added, thinking of the Kingsguard vow. "I will offer you council, keep your secrets and obey your commands. I swear it by the old gods and the new," he said as those around them began to cheer.

"And I vow," Robb stepped forward, "that as a royal guard for the North and the Trident, you will always have a place of honor at my home and at my table. I will respect your council, your strength and your loyalty. I will ask no service of you that will bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Rise, Ser Perwyn," Robb gestured with his hand, "and welcome to my Kingsguard."

* * *

"There's nothing out there," Jory asked as he came to stand beside Yoren.

"No," Yoren replied with a chuckle, "not even a wolf howling."

"It's because we're getting close to the Riverlands," Jory answered. "There are lions here."

Yoren turned to him and nodded in agreement before gesturing for Jory to follow him. He left a couple men - thieves he found in the dungeons - posted as watch. They didn't go too far away from the men but they were close to the abandoned barn his sister and the others were taking refuge in for the night. It was better than sleeping out in the open.

"I was told not to leave until later," Yoren said, lifting his wine jug to his mouth.

"By who," Jory questioned.

"Bald, plump man," Yoren described. "Said his name was Varys." Jory nodded in recognition. "Told me that Lord Stark would be taking up the black, part of his punishment to the crown."

"They promised him mercy," Jory looked away.

"I was to wait for him," Yoren added, gesturing for Jory to take a swig of wine also. "Then that piece of shit, King Joffrey changed his mind and well," he motioned with his hands, "here we be."

"Aye," Jory coughed a bit before handing the pouch back.

"The bald man came to see me again when I was leaving," Yoren started once more, "told me to go to a place in Flea Bottom, look for a boy name Gendry," he said catching Jory's attention, "take him to the Wall, anywhere but the Capital."

"Why," he narrowed his eyes at the watchmen.

"Didn't say," Yoren shook his head.

"You knew they would come for him?"

"Aye, but whatever it is, I know the boy is innocent. He's just an armorer's apprentice."

"Armorer," Jory lifted an eyebrow, remembering he and Lord Stark had gone out to one such armorer's shop. "Do you know the name?"

"No, I don't. Look, I know I shouldn't be asking this of you. You got your own concerns with getting that other one back but," Yoren paused and lowered his voice, "that boy don't belong at the Wall. We could use 'em for sure but there's a reason why they want him and I think he be safer with Lord Stark's boy."

Jory nodded. "You want me to take him with us?"

"I do. That plump Lord only wanted to keep him safe, even said Lord Stark knows who that boy is." Jory narrowed his eyes at that. "I can see that you don't know, to be honest," he laughed, "neither do I. But he is important to them, somehow. I knows you can keep him safe."

"Aye, we'll take him."

* * *

"Tywin Lannister is fleeing back South," Greatjon bellowed. "We should go on the offensive now."

"He's not going back to Casterly Rock," Robb commented.

"You mean to march on Casterly Rock," questioned Lord Karstark.

"I mean to purge the Riverlands of the Lannisters," Robb stood up and pushed the lion figures from the map. Almost every River Lord's home had been taken. "I did tell Joffrey that none of his men should ever to set foot in our lands again."

"But..."

"They've declared me, their King," Robb reminded his northern Lords before turning to look at those who had recently joined him. "I lifted the siege from Riverrun. I've captured Jamie Lannister. We are on our way to getting my sisters back, exacting vengeance on the Lannisters for beheading my father. All of that would not be possible without them."

"You are the grandson of Lord Hoster Tully," Lord Tytos Blackwood stepped forward. "And we respect your grandfather. It was you who came to our rescue, their rescue."

"It was your father," Ser Marq Piper added, "that denounced Gregor Clegane. You are simply following through on it," he nodded, making Robb seem at ease.

"That doesn't remove him or any Lannister forces out from what is mine. And Starks always protect those under their care," Robb nodded looking at the map. "You will all take your men back to your castles," he instructed, "eliminate any Lannister that stands against you. If they yield..."

"Your Grace," Lord Karyl Vance shook with anger, his father had just died as well.

"If they yield," Robb repeated, "you will take them as your prisoners, let me know who is captive and perhaps we can use that to our advantage."

"You mean to keep them prisoner as you do with Jamie Lannister," questioned Lord Jason Mallister.

"I mean to show Lord Tywin that he is to take me seriously," Robb looked up at his lords. "I want my sisters back; my father's remains and for them to get out of our lands. Those were my terms," he said slowly and firmly. "I want him to know what this young wolf can do."

Robb stood from a high position in the camp and watched as the banners of several River Lords departed. He smiled when he noticed that more than one of them - practically all of them - had a Stark banner flying among them as well. He did not think of anything beyond the North, never desired the iron chair. In fact, he merely had gone to the Riverlands because they accepted his mother. Now they had accepted him. He had been made their King of the Trident, after all.

"Your Grace?"

Robb turned and nodded, "Yes, Olyvar?"

"A raven brought this," Olyvar held out the letter, "your mother has reached the Stormlands."

"Thank you," Robb nodded, taking the letter and looking at it for a while. "There's still no word from Theon?" Olyvar shook his head. "He should have arrived there before my mother arrived in the Stormlands." He paused in thought and then looked up at Olyvar. "Do you think that I should have followed my Lord's advice and march on the Westerlands?"

Olyvar thought a moment and then nodded. "They are retreating. It does give the river Lords the best opportunity to regain their lands - you made a good decision there. And if the reports were true that it is Autumn now, well," Olyvar replied, "the Lords will want to prepare their homes and castles for Winter. It snows down here too, your Grace."

Robb chuckled. "You can call me Robb, Olyvar," he said before turning back to the tent, "at least when it is just the two of us."

They walked inside and Robb gestured for Olyvar to sit down at the table with him.

"I want to invade the Westerlands - the same as they came into the Riverlands. They won't know what to do, how to deter us. The river Lords are defending their home and castle, we'll be able to catch the Westerlands unprepared," Robb added, "call my guards in. I want to make out a strategy."

Ser Perwyn came in along with Torrhen, Eddard, Smalljon, Lady Dacey, Daryn and Patrek Mallister - the newest addition to Robb's personal guards. They all sat down at the table - Lady Dacey at the farthest seat possible from Ser Perwyn. Robb moved a few figures on the map towards the Westerlands.

"Your father was right," he looked at Smalljon, "we need to get to Casterly Rock. Tywin won't be going there but if we take his home, he wouldn't know what's coming."

"We'd have quite a way to go," Patrek commented.

"What is this," Eddard pointed to the map.

"That is Golden Tooth," Ser Perwyn commented. "If the Lannister army is retreating, they'll go there."

"Golden Tooth," Robb repeated, "House Lefford," he added looking to Ser Perwyn for confirmation. "I'll have another army cut through this way," he gestured to the northern part of the Westerlands.

"Banefort is up there, near the coast," Ser Perwyn mentioned.

"If Theon can get his father's ships then we'll be able to crush Banefort from the sea and the land," Robb noted.

"We move down to meet the other forces," Torrhen moved some figures around. "This seat right here," he pointed.

"The Crag," Robb nodded.

"We can swallow them up easily - especially if we get those ships," Torrhen suggested.

"After Golden Tooth," Ser Perwyn leaned over, "we could lead the primary force up to Ashemark."

"These are the castles closest to the Riverlands," Lady Dacey agreed, "we could also cut off their supply lines into the Riverlands. Not to mention that I heard a lot of their mines are near here," she pointed to a distance away from Golden Tooth.

"We'd take their gold right out from under them," Smalljon smiled widely.

"Let's do this," Robb ordered.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Nysa, Nysa," Arya shook her awake.

"What," Nysa stirred before looking around to see her brother had already risen. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Arya shook her head and turned to Gendry who was trying to get Hot Pie and Lommy up.

A horn blew again and caused Nysa to jump. She grabbed Torrhen's bow, slinging it over her shoulder. Wyl came by then and folded up her furs, along with everyone else's furs. He had done it so quickly that Nysa barely had time to react and question it.

"Keep out of sight," Yoren came by her and then grabbed Gendry, pushing him towards Jory, "our agreement?"

"Aye," Jory nodded.

"What," Gendry questioned, looking around, "I'm being sold again?"

"You were never sold, boy," Yoren looked at him. "Now, stay out of sight," he growled, "and if things go wrong, go with these men. Get on a horse, run to the North with them and don't look back."

"We can fight," Arya jumped in front of him. "Jory," she turned to Jory, "we can help him."

"Their first order of business is getting you back home, boy," Yoren barked before shaking his head and turning back to Jory. "Get your horses ready."

"We can't," Arya shook her head, looking at Jory.

"We stay out of sight and if something happens, little Lady, we have to leave."

"Those men out there want to fuck your corpses," Yoren barked, "outside! Now!"

Everyone began moving quickly. Desmond and Porther ushered her out and towards the back of the barn. Alyn was there leaning up against the post, sword drawn when they came in.

"What's going on?"

"We need to leave," Jory mounted his horse before looking back at Gendry. "We don't have enough so that you can have your own, you'll need to ride with one of my men."

"Aye," Gendry nodded and climbed on behind Wyl.

Nysa wrapped her arms around Desmond as Arya climbed on after Porther. Jory motioned for them to stay quiet as they moved the horses out and watched Yoren go out to meet the men.

"Lannisters," Alyn spat on the ground.

"How many of them," Cayn asked.

"I do not know," Jory shook his head, "but if Yoren doesn't get rid of them, we need to leave."

They all watched from on top their horses, one hand on the reins while the other on their sword - ready for a fight. Gendry had a hammer in one hand and looked ready to do the same. Desmond tapped Nysa's leg and motioned for her to move around him. She maneuvered her body until she was in front of him, perfect spot for her to shoot an arrow. She got one ready and they waited.

"Where's the bastard, _crow_ ," one of them shouted at Yoren.

"They're looking for Nysa," Wyl whispered.

"No," Jory shook his head, "they want the boy," he nodded to Gendry before turning back to the scene. "Can you see how much of them there are," Jory questioned to no one in particular.

"A dozen, maybe more," his sister answered, scanning the darkness. "I only see shadows."

"There's more than a few bastards here, who's asking," Yoren demanded to know.

"Ser Amory Lorch, sworn bannermen to Lord Tywin Lannister," the man on the horse answered. "These men from the Capital requested our assistance," he motioned to the gold-cloaks riding with them. "Drop your weapons in the name of the King."

"Which King would that be," Yoren chuckled, "I heard there's about three..."

"This is your last chance," the knight growled. "In the name of King Joffrey, drop your weapons."

"I don't think I will."

"We just want the bastard."

Yoren spat on the ground.

"So be it," he gestured for a guard to proceed.

But Nysa anticipated it and shot an arrow out from the clearing, hitting the guard in the head. She hurried to get another arrow ready and aimed it towards a torch. "Desmond," she muttered as he pulled out a small pouch and poured it onto her arrow.

Just as Yoren began to attack the Lannister guards, Nysa let the arrow go. It hit the flame atop the torch. The fire caught the oil on the arrow and started to burn the grass around the men. Her eyes widened at the sight.

"There's at least thirty of them," Wyl said.

"Yoren," Arya gasped as they saw the man known as Ser Amory Lorch plunge his sword into Yoren's head.

"Start looking for that bastard Gendry," Ser Amory barked, "and I want that bowman!"

"Ride," Jory shouted as they all darted out of the bushes, following him away from there.

Nysa snuggled back against Desmond as they pushed through the darkness. They were on the run again. Jory took them away from the Kingsroad. He led them through using the moonlight, not once looking back. It was not until he spotted a light on the horizon that he stopped the party. He urged his horse backwards until the others caught up.

"What is it," asked Wyl.

"Light," Jory replied.

"It cannot be daybreak," Cayn added.

"It's not," Jory agreed before looking at them, "it's a camp."

"Robb," Arya leaned forward.

"Too far South," Jory shook his head before scanning the woods around him. "We'd have to go around them."

"The light goes on and on, Jory," Wyl tilted his head towards the hill top, "we'd never make it before we're discovered."

"We can't ride through. Not a Lannister encampment," Jory refuted.

And he was right. A rider overheard them and appeared at the top of the hill, blowing a small horn to signal that there were intruders to their camp. Jory shouted for them to hurry and ride out of there. Better to go back and face the thirty men instead of facing an entire camp.

An arrow pierced Wyl's horse, causing him and Gendry to fly off. They scurried around until Jory went back to grab Gendry and Alyn went to take Wyl. Another arrow flew in the air and landed in Porther's shoulder, causing Arya to scream.

"Arya," Nysa shouted and tried to get Desmond to turn around.

When they did, an entire envoy had arrived to take them. The guards pulled Arya off the horse, kicking and screaming. Nysa got an arrow ready and shot the first guard down but was unable to annihilate any further threats when Desmond was bombarded by guards also. She looked over to see the guards dragging Jory, Gendry, Alyn, Wyl and Cayn as well. Her eyes then caught the two figures laying on the dirt. They pulled Porther up and yanked the arrow out as he screamed.

"Where did you come from," one of them questioned, to which Porther spat in his face.

The guard took out his sword and drove it through Porther's chest causing Nysa to turn away from the sight.

Arya was still struggling in the arms of one of the other guards.

"Now where did you all come from?"

"That's enough," a voice sounded as Nysa saw three other figures stride forward on their horses. It was obvious that these were higher in authority.

"Lannisters," Jory whispered but Nysa already knew who they were. His eyes widened, gesturing back towards the three who were approaching.

Realization dawned on her and she tried to move back.

One of them jumped off their horse and began walking down the line. "They have swords," he said back to the two on the horse, "and this one has a bow," he gestured to Nysa, "but they don't look like trouble. Who of you is in charge?"

"No one is in charge, my Lord," Cayn answered.

"So, you are just riding fast through the night," he questioned.

"We meant no harm," Wyl added.

"No harm," one of the guards behind spat out, "they were running away. What were they running from if not..."

"This could merely be a small misunderstanding," a second person from the horses jumped down. Nysa's hair began to stand on her neck, because she recognized that voice. "You did not need to sound the alarm for such a small party."

Nysa kept her head down and tried to hide behind Wyl and Cayn but it was too late. He moved towards her until he was standing in the front. Someone - probably Jory - pulled out a hidden dagger but another guard was right there to stop him. The knight reached out his hand and lifted Nysa's face slowly. She couldn't make out the guard's face in the dark. It wasn't until he whispered her name that she knew she was in trouble.

"Ser Lucion," the guard questioned who was holding Jory back.

"I'll take them to Lord Tywin's tent," Ser Lucion replied.

"They attacked us," someone called out from behind.

"They're nothing but common folk trying to survive," Ser Lucion shouted. "We could use more able-bodied men, especially since the young wolf," his eyes flitted over to where Arya was, "killed so many of ours."

"Ser..."

"I do not think that my cousin would appreciate you questioning me, now would he," Ser Lucion let go of Nysa's face and turned to guard. Nysa exhaled a breath of relief. "Let that one go," he nodded to Arya. "Be off with the rest of you. I said I'll take them."

"Yes, Ser," they replied.

Ser Lucion moved Nysa to walk right next to him. She watched as her brother and the others were lined up behind her.

They had just appeared at the entrance of the tent when Ser Lucion stopped them. One by one, the other guards left him alone to enter the tent.

"Do not worry," he said to Nysa but loud enough for everyone to hear. "He'll not learn who you are from me." Nysa turned sharply towards him. "You saved my life at King's Landing," he stated plainly turning to look at the tent's entrance, "and a Lannister always pays his debts."

"Ser Lucion," she began.

"Not a word until I say so," he replied as a voice told them to enter.

"What is it?"

Nysa raised her head to see a few men - Lords and knights - in their armor discussing matters over a table.

"Who are these people?"

"The guards roused us for a tiny group of small folk riding through the woods," Ser Lucion replied. "I thought that perhaps we could use them, instead of putting them to the sword."

One of those lords walked around the table and Nysa moved her head to look down again. The lord lifted her face slowly before Nysa caught an odd twinkle in them. He released her and continued walking.

"They just appeared in the woods?"

"They were riding through them, riding hard and fast away from something," Ser Lucion replied.

"And what was that," the Lord questioned.

Before anyone could answer, Nysa got a better look at the man walking behind him. She looked over at her brother then. "The Mountain," she whispered nodding towards him. Jory's eyes widened a bit before turning his face, using his hair to hide his features. She was so determined to stay hidden from the Mountain now that she did not notice the Lord in front of them was still awaiting a reply.

"Answer Lord Tywin," a guard shouted, "or I'll cut off your cocks off and make you talk," he pointed the sword to them.

Lord Tywin turned sharply towards the guard and shook his head. "You'll do no such thing," he said in a calm voice. He gestured for Arya and Nysa to step forward. "These two are girls, you idiot. Chopped hair and dressed up as boys, why," he asked.

"Safer to travel, my Lord," Arya answered.

"Smart," he nodded to the two of them before looking back, "more than I can say for those under my command. And what is it that got you so worked up," he asked looking at Nysa.

She had never met Lord Tywin Lannister before but she had met every one of his children. She couldn't see any resemblance, not since Lord Tywin's hair was graying. But he still looked imposing and someone to be feared and respected as he stood there in front of them.

"Our village is really small, my lord," Nysa began. "Our father was murdered," she gestured towards Arya and then looked at Gendry, "my brother and I decided to get our sister out before we heard your men were coming."

"They're from the Riverlands," someone said behind him.

"We don't hold our allegiance to anyone, my Lord," Nysa protested.

"They could be working as spies!"

"We are not," Nysa shook her head. "I assure you!"

"They can't be trusted," another Lord stated, drawing his sword.

"No, please. We simply..."

"That's enough, girl," Lord Tywin said before turning to the others, "and I suppose you are all from the same village?"

"Yes, my Lord," Jory replied, "they are my brother's children. I just wanted to get them somewhere safe." He paused and then turned away to hide his face once more. "Some of us were fishermen, my Lord. We've been on the run for some time and I came close to selling my nephew and nieces to a tavern just so that they could have somewhere to sleep. Please, my Lord."

"I will look after them," Lord Tywin answered immediately.

"My Lord Tywin," the guard tried to stop him but Lord Tywin just stared at him. "Yes, my Lord."

"Your brother," he asked Nysa, pointing to Gendry. She nodded and he walked over. "Strong and young, do you know a trade?"

Gendry nodded. "Smith, my Lord."

"Put him to work," Lord Tywin commanded Ser Lucion. "You forge our armor and shield, we'll keep you well fed. Get those other men over there in uniform," he gestured to Jory, "they look fit to wield swords."

"They already had swords, cousin," Ser Lucion commented. "A bit unprepared though."

"Of course, they were," Lord Tywin agreed, "have them trained. You girl," he barked at Nysa, "your brother is a smith and what skill did you parents teach you?"

"I can tend to the wounded," Nysa replied.

"Send her there," he instructed before pointing to Arya, "and leave the other girl with me. I need a new cup-bearer."

* * *

"Greyjoy," Ser Rodrik shouted, kicking the guards holding him. They got a few cuts and bruises on them but continued their hold.

"We caught this one on the back from Torrhen Square," one of the guards said as he was brought to stand before Theon. "He cut two of ours before I got his sword."

"Ser Rodrik," Theon smirked at him. "It grieves me that we meet as foes."

"It grieves me that you have less honor than a back-alley whore," he bit out, blood streaming down his face. "You were raised here, under this roof. These people are your people!"

"They are not my people," Theon retorted.

"King Robb thought of you as a brother," he snarled.

Theon took a few steps forward. "My brothers are dead. They died fighting Stark men, men like you," Theon shouted.

"Aye, they died fighting a war your father started," Ser Rodrik argued, "Lord Stark raised you among his own sons."

"Among them," he shook his head, "not as one of them. I was his hostage! Taken from my home!"

"If he were alive to see this..."

"He's not," Theon snarled, "he's dead! The Seven Kingdoms are at war and Winterfell is mine!"

Ser Rodrik leaned forward. "I should have put a sword in your belly instead of in your hand," he shook his head, eyeing Theon with disgust. "Or a bow in the other, you and Nysa," he snorted. "My own niece played with you as a child, trained with you in the yard. You could barely read or write when you came to us. Who taught you," Ser Rodrik shouted, "who taught you when the letters jumbled in your head?"

It was Nysa, Theon thought.

"We all did it because Lord Stark took you in! You became a member of his household! Everything you learned came from us, from House Stark, from the people of Winterfell!"

One of the men moved by Ser Rodrik, catching Theon's attention - reminding him of what his purpose was. "You have served this House faithfully, old man. But keep talking and..."

Ser Rodrik spat in Theon's face. One of his guards kicked Ser Rodrik, pushing him into the mud.

"Take him to the cells," Theon commanded. "Lock him..."

"My Prince," one of the guards came by him then, "you cannot let that stand. He must pay."

"I'll lock him in his cell until..."

"No," the guard barked. "He has to pay the iron price."

Realization dawned on Theon and for some reason a few others who were standing in the yard. "No," Theon heard a female shout from the back and saw Beth being held back in Raya's arms. Raya's two daughters on the side of her, also began crying.

"They'll never respect you while he lives," the guard pointed out as Theon looked back at him.

Theon looked down at Ser Rodrik, guilt flooding through him like the waters beat against the coast. He turned to look at Bran, eyes pleading. Beth was still crying in the corner for her father. He then looked at all the iron men around him, all demanding that this be done. He is an Iron-born. He is Prince of the Iron Islands. He is a Greyjoy, a Kraken. He is not a Stark, not a wolf. He never was.

"Ser Rodrik, I sentence you to death!"

"No," Beth shouted the loudest and tried to pull away from Raya. Only for Joseth to grab her and pull her back.

"Stay with my wife, Beth."

"My father! Theon, please," Beth shouted. "He trained you! He trained you!"

Bran and Rickon were shouting too, begging Theon not to do it, reminding Theon that he promised mercy. "You said no harm would come if I yielded," Bran argued.

"The old man couldn't keep his mouth shut," Theon responded.

"He trained you," Beth continued. "He taught you everything, Theon! Don't do this! Not my father, please I'm begging you!"

"Do not make a hasty decision," Maester Luwin came towards Theon then.

"He disrespected me in front of my men. That was his decision," Theon countered, "not mine!"

"He's worth more to you alive, than dead," Maester Luwin pleaded. "What they say is right," he gestured towards Beth, Bran and the others. "The Starks will pay and if Jory and Nysa are still alive," he urged, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Please Theon, think about what you do. No one will forgive you if he..."

"You'll address me as Prince Theon or you'll be next," Theon barked before nodding to his men to complete the order.

"No," Beth moved free from Joseth, running full speed towards her father only for one of the Iron guards to catch her.

"Don't worry," he smirked at her, "I'll take care of you once he's gone."

"No," Raya reached for her but Joseth pulled his wife back.

"Not the girl, my Prince," Maester Luwin begged Theon. "Please not..."

"Theon, stop," Rickon shouted as Nan did her best to hold him back.

Farlen shouted protests as well until one of the iron men punched him in the face.

"No," Bran protested, screaming for Theon to stop as Ser Rodrik was led towards the block. "You promised Theon! You promised!"

"Not Ser Rodrik, please," Rickon added.

Ser Rodrik planted his feet, halting the guards from moving him until Theon came to stand before him. "He who passes the sentence should swing the sword," Ser Rodrik reminded Theon. "You are Lord of Winterfell, are you not?"

Theon pushed his guards away and withdrew his sword.

"Stop," Bran shouted. "Stop right now!"

"You don't give commands anymore, little lord," Theon looked up at him.

"Please, please, Maester Luwin," Bran turned to him, "please..."

"Hush now child," Ser Rodrik told him. "I'm off to see your father," he smiled before turning away. "Beth, my daughter," he called out as she whimpered in the back, "look away!"

Beth, Bran and Rickon continued to shout at him. There were also the pleas of Joseth and Farlen, their wives and daughters who began to cry. Theon ignored them all and put out his sword.

"Any last words, old man?"

"Gods help you, Theon Greyjoy," Ser Rodrik told him. "Robb and Nysa will never forgive you. Now you are truly lost." He placed his head down as Theon readied his sword.

* * *

Nysa stared at the bath with joyful eyes. She desperately wanted to go in but at the same time, she was still cautious of Ser Lucion. This was his tent after all. She stood there, watching the soft steam rise from the water. It did look inviting. She hadn't bathe since King's Landing and that had been a long journey.

"What are you doing?" She jumped at Ser Lucion entering the tent. "It's a bath. I didn't fill it with poison."

"It's a bath, in your tent," she added.

"Yes, well you can't expect for me to let you bathe in the river now, do you?" She turned to him as he sat on his feather bed and began taking off his boots. Nysa shuffled back slowly until she hit a small table in there, causing the contents on there to be knocked over. "I'm not going to hurt you if that's what you're thinking."

"This is highly improper," she said gently as Ser Lucion stopped and looked up at her.

"Do you believe I brought you here so that I could bed you?" Nysa didn't answer but looked away. "Lannisters have more honor than you think we do. And believe me, it's better for you in here than out there," he nodded towards the exit. "They know you're a girl, do you think that your brother will be able to stop them from raping you?"

"So, I am to stay in your bed and have the others think that I am your whore," Nysa snapped.

"I know this isn't the ideal setting for you," he added.

"It's not!"

"But you should consider that we are at war right now," he looked at her thoughtfully before standing. "Men forget themselves during war. It was either this or I allow the men to make you their whore and trust me," Lucion stepped closer, "Ser Gregor would have you first and then allow the rest of his men to have you too. They wouldn't listen to your pleas to stop or your cries for mercy. And by the time the men are done, Ser Gregor will return to you again - that's if you haven't killed yourself first."

"Why do you allow him to..."

"I don't allow him to do anything," Lucion almost shouted at her. "He is a sworn bannermen to my cousin. He is the only one who follows orders to Tywin's liking."

"And that involves raping innocent girls?"

Lucion sighed and turned his head away. "That involves completing whatever task Tywin tells him to do. If Tywin wants the Riverlands destroyed, Clegane will do it. How it gets it done, Tywin doesn't care."

"As long as it gets done," Nysa finished.

Lucion looked away from her. He had desired her in King's Landing. And despite her unkempt appearance what with her hair being short, her tunic a size to large and her breeches dirtied - he still thought her desirable. He knew she did not care for him the same - probably not at all. She had declined invitations to walk in the gardens or ride in the morning or even eat luncheon with him and his sister. He had never tried to court a girl before but he understood enough to know that she was not interested. It must have increased even more the past few days since she was a member of House Stark and he was a Lannister.

"I won't sleep here, if that makes you feel better. I did not intend to bed you or encourage you into my bed by kindness," Lucion said as he began to slip on a cleaner tunic. "As I said, you saved my life and I owed you a debt. So, if there is anything else you need of me just..."

"My brother went up against Ser Gregor during the tourney for Lord Stark," she interrupted him. "If for some reason..."

"Believe me, Clegane will not notice your brother. He barely even remembers fighting me. The only thing he recalls is that his lance broke off in my side - and he didn't even know it was I he was jousting against," Lucion chuckled before shaking his head.

"I'm assuming your wound has healed nicely since you are here, preparing to fight on the battlefield."

"Thanks to you," he smiled lightly before clearing his throat. "Finish your bath," he nodded towards the water, "I had my squire lay out a new tunic and pair of breeches for you. I'm afraid I do not have any spare dresses laying around for unsuspecting maidens." Nysa covered her mouth to hide her laugh which made Lucion smile. "Come and find me when you're done."

After Ser Lucion had left the tent, Nysa undressed and slipped into the heated bath - glad to be rid of the bindings on her breast and the boots off her feet. The water had cooled down some but it was still warm and soothing. She wanted so desperately to take her time, enjoying the rinsing of the dirt away from her skin. She rest her head back against the edge of the tub and just sat there in the water. Nysa could have fallen asleep but she jumped at the mention of her name and moved her arms to cover her body.

"Forgive me, my Lady," a young boy bowed his head, his cheeks reddening. "I did not mean to disturb you but Ser Lucion wanted me to ask if you were done." Nysa looked away and down at the water. "He wishes to take you to see the injured men and I need to empty out the bath."

"Of course, of course," Nysa nodded before gesturing for a large cloth to wipe and cover herself.

The young boy didn't watch her nor did he attempt to look her way. He kept his eyes down on the ground or at the task at hand as Nysa got dressed. She immediately snorted as she saw the tunic had red and gold trimming. It wasn't as loose as the first one and she found that she didn't care if her womanly curves were displayed. She had nothing to hide anymore.

"Thank you," Nysa told the boy as he nodded and took her dirty cloths.

"I'll have these washed for you, my Lady."

"Excuse me but what is your name?"

"Darion," he smiled, "Darion Lannister."

"You are Ser Lucion's squire?" The boy nodded with another smile. "And how old are you, Darion?"

"Ten," he answered, straightening out his shoulders and trying to stand tall.

"And what a brave, young squire you are to be follow Ser Lucion to battle," she complimented as he relaxed and the red appeared in his cheeks again. "Are you Ser Lucion's cousin?"

"Yes, my Lady. I'm," Darion paused and then looked away with his eyebrows knit together. "His grandmother and my grandfather are brother and sister or I think my mother is his grandmother, no," it was adorable to see him attempt the relationship, Nysa thought. "Wait, I'm his..." Darion stopped again and tried to formulate his answer.

"You are still kin to him," Nysa appraised as she held out her hand, "would you like to show me where Ser Lucion is?"

Darion led her by the hand, smiling up at her every now and then. He dropped her hand once they reached a tent with two knights standing outside. One of them, Nysa recognized as someone who was with Lord Tywin in the main tent. The other was younger but still a few years older than Nysa. Darion took a few steps away from her when their eyes landed on her, causing her to wonder if they would have reprimanded him.

"You are to tend to the wounded, not the boy," the older one barked before his eyes turned to Darion, "go on."

Darion disappeared quickly and Nysa turned with wide eyes towards the younger one who opened the flap of the tent for her. She hesitantly went in before him and gasped when the flap fell and the knight appeared right behind her.

"Darion's mother died a couple weeks ago," the knight said, "he hasn't had any female interaction since his father sent him to squire for Lucion. He hopes it will toughen him up."

"It's not weakness to mourn for your loved ones."

The knight stood perhaps two heads taller than her and sneered, "she was raped and murdered in front of his eyes by a northmen."

"A northerner would never..." Nysa whimpered as the knight grabbed her arm with such force and pulled her against his body.

The knight smirked and looked down upon her. "I knew you weren't telling my Uncle the truth," he chuckled, "you're from the North."

"Please, I..."

"Son," a raspy voice called out, causing both Nysa and the knight's head to snap towards the corner.

In the bed, hidden in the shadows, was an older man - badly injured from the coloration of the cloths around him. Nysa pulled herself free and went to the man's side. "Where is your injury?"

The man grunted and moved his shoulder until Nysa saw the bandage fall and show the wound on his back. She gently moved him over to his side - finally gaining assistance from the knight that was in the tent with them. She worked quietly and asked for Darion to come back and assist her. The knight left and went to fetch him - along with new bandages.

Darion continued to fetch her water. He helped her keep the fire going so that she could have the coals to work. She then went out in the early morning, walking around the camp and looking at the various plants that were nearby. The wound that the soldier had, had a small infection. But it could easily have gotten cleaned up with some little extra herbs. She worked to create the cream that was to go on the wound in the tent. When Darion asked her what it was called, she said that she had forgotten the name - only that her Lord Uncle had told her that it could help to numb the muscles so the patient wouldn't feel any pain.

Jory had been allowed to see her in the soldier's tent. Of course, the knight she had met earlier along with Ser Lucion were often present as well - there was nothing she could do to get them away from her - so, she and Jory could not speak of private matters. But he did inform her that everyone was alright and that they would be marching on to Harrenhall once Nysa was done. Apparently, whoever she was tending to, was rather important to the Lannister's army. She found her answer.

"How is he," Lord Tywin came into the tent with Arya close behind him two days later.

"He is well, my Lord," Nysa stood from the side of the bed and attempted a curtsy.

"There is no need for that, girl," he replied and walked towards the bed to stand at the edge of it. "This man is my late wife's brother," he said looking at the man in the bed. "He is my brother by law, I do not want lies."

"He had a significant injury," Nysa explained. "I'm surprised that he has lived this long without it being tended to, my Lord. But I was able to go in and clean the wound from infection." He gestured for her to go. "Nothing major was damaged. He is older in age so I am worried about his recovery."

"Will he live?"

Nysa nodded.

"Will he be incapacitated?"

"No, my Lord," she shook her head. "I think he won't be able to move for a while. He is weak because he hasn't had proper food, only the broth that I've been preparing and even that is not enough sustenance."

Lord Tywin walked towards the other side and examined the man's back. "Did he pass out from the pain or..."

"I gave him a numbing agent. Well, I rubbed a cream on his back so that I could sew up the wound," Nysa corrected.

Lord Tywin's eyes shot up at her.

"My Lord," Nysa added, wondering if she forgot to address him and that was the reason for his curiosity.

"Your sister knows how to read."

Nysa's brows furrowed in confusion before she glanced at Arya. "Is she not supposed to?"

A chuckle left Lord Tywin's mouth and he moved away from the bed. "There aren't that many low-born girls who grow up in villages that know how to read," he walked to the other corner, taking a cup from Ser Lucion and swirling the wine around before bringing it to his lips, "neither are there many low-born girls who have extensive knowledge in medicine."

That was the point he was trying to make, Nysa thought as she looked away.

"Right now, I find myself in no concern over who the two of you are or where you are from," Tywin began without waiting for an answer. "Tell me more about Ser Stafford," he gestured to the bed, "when will he be able to ride?"

"You will have to ask him what he is okay with, my Lord," Nysa answered. "In my opinion, I would ask that we wait until the wound close - a week or so. But if you are desperate to exit these lands then I suggest you prepare a wagon and many furs for him to stay comfortable."

* * *

Robb sat in one of the halls of Castamere, watching as Torrhen sharpened a sword. He tried not to let his feelings surface - especially with Ser Perwyn and Olyvar so close by. But nonetheless, the news came out. Eddard slapped Torrhen's leg before gesturing towards Robb. Torrhen looked up at their King and remembered that he had thought Nysa and Robb were in love.

"Is that Nysa's sword," Robb asked when Torrhen looked at him.

"Yes, your Grace," Torrhen answered.

Robb took a deep breath and tried to unclench his fist but it wasn't working. "May I ask how you came by it?"

Torrhen smiled lightly before looking back down at it. "The last I checked, you are betrothed to a Frey, your Grace," he said and continued sharpening the sword, "you shouldn't concern yourself with what Lady Nysa is giving me or not." Torrhen couldn't help it - consider it his male pride or what have you - but he wanted to remind the King that Nysa no longer belonged to him, she never did.

Eddard shook his head and snorted.

Robb stood immediately causing Ser Perwyn, Olyvar and Patrek to look on in confusion. "What she's giving you," he questioned.

"You overstepped, Torr," Eddard reminded him.

Torrhen nodded to his brother but turned to stand up as well. "Forgive me, your Grace. I did not mean to offend Lady Nysa."

"No, you only meant to offend me."

"Torrhen is right," Lady Dacey interjected, "You are betrothed, your Grace. Nysa is no longer your concern." Robb turned sharply to her. "I know you may care for her - more than is consider proper - but you made a vow."

"Lady Nysa," Ser Perwyn questioned then.

"Yes," Smalljon began, "she's from the North. She..."

"I know who she is," Ser Perwyn interjected causing the entire room to look at him. "If we're talking about the same Nysa," he began, "she was with your father," he nodded to Robb. "My brothers and I met her at the Hand's tourney. King Robert held a tourney for Lord Stark and we had gone to compete it. I went up against her brother and lost," he chuckled.

"Her brother is a knight," asked Olyvar. "Father said you lost to..."

Ser Perwyn scoffed. "Of course, father would say that I lost to a knight. But no," he shook his head, "I believe her brother serves captain of the guard for House Stark."

"Her father was a knight," Robb answered looking at him before setting his eyes back on Torrhen, "and her Uncle is Ser Rodrik."

Olyvar nodded. "The one you sent back to Winterfell?"

"Yes."

"So, we are speaking of the same Lady," Ser Perwyn smiled.

"Why are you smiling," Olyvar asked.

"If my thoughts are correct and I believe they are," he looked at his brother before turning towards the King. "Nysa is a beautiful young woman, your Grace. She is witty, fearless and kindhearted. You march to the South for her as well, I can see it in your eyes. I see the same look that many southern knights had when she tended to their wounds or danced with them at the feast in King's Landing," he added which made not only Robb but Torrhen heat up with anger also. "But you made a promise to my father, your Grace."

"What are you saying, Ser Perwyn," Robb narrowed his eyes at him.

"You chose me to be one of your personal guards, to give you advice when needed. And that is what I will tell you, you should no longer concern yourself with her."

"She," Robb began but looked away and closed his eyes.

Torrhen cleared his throat. He opened his mouth but Smalljon and Daryn shook their heads. He took a step forward, either way. "I will take care of her, your Grace. She'll never be left wanting."

"My father planned to give her Greenhall," Robb said without turning towards Torrhen, "as a wedding gift. I believe he was going to settle a betrothal with your House when he came back."

"Greenhall is generous," Torrhen smiled nervously and looked down.

"That's very generous," Eddard added, turning to his brother.

"There are a lot of abandoned castles and hold-fasts that could be rebuilt," Smalljon nodded. "Greenhall has an outlying village, it's near the Kingsroad. But it's also the next castle other than ours that receives the most raids from the wildlings."

"I think that's why my father wanted to rebuild it," Robb looked at Torrhen. He took a deep breath and felt his heart break when he uttered his next words. "When we get my sisters back, along with Nysa," he sighed heavily - it pained him to do so but what they spoke was the truth. "I will finalize the betrothal for you and Nysa."

Torrhen straightened out. "Thank you, your Grace. You've proved yourself the better man."

A knock sounded on the door and Olyvar went to open it. Lord Bolton walked in and bowed to Robb - ignoring the others who were there. "Your Grace," he held out two letters.

"From the look on your face, I don't know if I'll like either one," Robb commented as he motioned for the letters.

"One is from your mother," Lord Bolton began. "She is traveling back from the Stormlands."

"So soon," Robb narrowed his eyes.

"I'm afraid that there is some disturbing news at the Baratheon camp."

"He refused to fight with us," Eddard Karstark questioned.

Lord Bolton did not turn around to face them but continue to address the King. "I'll have you read her letter, my King. The other, your Grace," Lord Bolton sighed, "is from Winterfell."

* * *

"No, please," Nysa shouted as every head turned to her.

She had heard the screams of a child and the crying of a girl as they made their first and only stop on their way to Harrenhall. They had regrouped with the Mountain and she was shocked to see a few of his men pushing a young girl between four of them. It was as if they were playing some sort of game. And it wasn't until the girl they were toying with had screamed that they stopped.

"That means I get her first boys," one of them shouted and spun the girl around in his arms.

He began tearing her dress off and it was then that Nysa stepped forward.

"She's ours," another one turned around to scowl at her.

"There's a tavern nearby with..."

Nysa was slapped across the face and fell into the dirt. He had just grabbed her when another soldier pulled him off. "She belongs to Ser Lucion."

"What's going on, here?"

She looked up to see Ser Lucion hurrying to her side. "This whore tried to stop us from partaking in our spoils."

"She's innocent, please," Nysa looked up at Ser Lucion as he pulled her to stand. He touched her cheek and turned to the men.

"Who hit her?"

Nobody responded and immediately he drew out his sword.

"Hand over your spoils," he gestured to the boy and other girl who were cringing in the dirt, "and that one," he lifted the sword to the girl they had been tossing back and forth. "Payment for bruising my lady's face."

"But Clegane said we could have them!"

"That was before you slapped my woman," Ser Lucion barked as a few of the other soldiers had finally turned to look.

Nysa saw that many of them were ready to defend Ser Lucion - he was after all probably their liege Lord. At least she wanted to think that.

The guards didn't move and Ser Lucion called for the two younger captives to step forward. They ran towards Nysa, both wrapping their arms around her as though she were their lifeline. The other girl took some time to get up but when she did, she gripped whatever clothing was still hanging on her and walked with her head lifted high. She didn't take Ser Lucion's hand and neither did she embrace Nysa.

Nysa took the three of them into Ser Lucion's tent and asked Darion to make a bath for the younger girl. She gave both some bread to eat while they waited - which they took to greedily. She then moved her attention to the other girl. After preparing a cloth and a small basin of water, she started to wipe the girl's cuts.

She slapped Nysa's hand away from her face. "I can tend to my own injuries, Lannister whore!"

Nysa didn't know what compelled her but she responded by slapping the girl back in the face. "I am not a whore," she sneered making the two others in the tent jump. She walked over to where the pitcher of water was and began to pour for the two younger children. "I know how this looks," she said as she walked back, "I'm being kept in a Lannister knight's tent but I am not his whore or any others for that matter," she handed the cup to the two children who took it eagerly.

"Why else would he keep you, if not for that reason?"

"Unless she was captured just like us," the younger girl squeaked but quieted down in when the elder one flashed her a glare.

"I actually was captured. A few days ago," Nysa answered. "We were trying to make our way North."

"Lies," the elder one shouted. "Don't believe her," she turned to the younger children.

"Believe me or not, I'm from the North."

The girl narrowed her eyes at Nysa. "Prove it!"

"I was raised among Lord Stark's children."

"If that is case then why are you here, in the middle of a Lannister camp in the tent belonging to a Lannister knight?"

"I traveled with Lord Stark to King's Landing. I was to serve as Lady Sansa's lady-in-waiting once she married Joffrey," Nysa knelt in front of the boy and began to clean any wounds and rub cream on bruises that were forming. She paused and looked intently at the boy. "You look familiar?"

"I'm..."

"Don't," the eldest stopped him.

"She said she's from the North," the girl replied.

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"My name is Nysa Snow," Nysa stood up and faced the young woman. "I am friends with Jon Snow and Robb Stark. My brother is Jory Cassel - captain of the guards for House Stark. He is alive, trying to get me and Arya Stark back North. We were captured and lied to Lord Tywin about being common folk to spare execution. We are wanted by the crown, by Joffrey and Cersei! Do you think it was easy for us to be here when Lord Tywin of all people oversees this camp? I grew up in Winterfell. I played in the wolfwoods. I have never been so hot in my life since the moment we passed the Neck."

Nysa started to pace in front of the girl.

"In fact, I haven't used my cloak or gloves since then! I hate it here in the South! I've been reminded that I'm a bastard by almost every person that I meet! It does not matter that my father was a knight or that my Uncle is one! Even my brother has been treated so lowly. Our House may be small but it is loyal and honorable! I have met so many dishonorable people in my life! Lord Stark never treated us this way. Lady Stark raised me among her daughters to be a Lady! And then I come here and am called all sort of names like bastard or whore," she sneered at the girl. "So, whether you believe me or not is up to you, but I do not need to hear any more of your complaining!"

There was a moment of silence as the two girls stared at one another. Nysa ran her eyes up and down the other girl before she turned to exit the tent.

"Jayne," the elder one replied as she pressed the cloth to her mouth. "My name is Jayne Bracken," she added.

Nysa turned around to see that Jayne had either believed her story or decided to allow Nysa to take care of them. Ser Lucion was correct, the odds were better staying inside his tent than out there among the other guards - especially the Mountain. Jayne realized that being with Nysa was the lesser of two evils. She was still wary about the young woman who professed to be from the North but was in the tent of a Lannister knight.

"House Bracken of Stone Hedge," Nysa asked as Jayne nodded. Nysa took a step forward. "That means that you're loyal to House Tully. It's where Lady Stark is from."

Jayne nodded again. "This is my sister, Catelyn," she nodded to the younger girl - who could have been the same age as Sansa. "And this is Lyman Darry," she gestured to the boy.

"As in House Darry," Nysa raised an eyebrow as the boy nodded. "Is your father Ser Raymun?"

"He was," the boy looked down. "The Mountain killed him."

Nysa gulped and looked down as well. "I met your father," she said as Lyman looked up. "He came to King's Landing with Ser Marq and Ser Karyl to ask for help with the raids on their homes." Lyman tilted his head at her. "I stood next to Lord Stark as he denounced the Mountain, stripping him of all titles and lands," she bit her lips and looked off to another part of the tent. "It seems so long ago."

"You're the one who shot all the Lannister guards who attacked Lord Stark," Lyman spoke up excitedly.

Nysa shook her head but smiled gently, went to Jayne and removed the cloth to place a cream on her lip. "I did not shoot them all," she paused and looked with a teasing glint in her eye at the young boy. "Believe me I wanted to. My brother cut down some of them as well."

Lyman covered his mouth to hold back his laugh.

"How did you hear of that," she asked him as Jayne's cut was cleaned.

"One of the guards that was with my father was from the North. He told the story."

Nysa's head whipped towards him. "Harwin," she asked but the boy shrugged. "Did any of Lord Stark's guards survive?"

He shook his head, causing Nysa's shoulder to sag sadly. "But I think there are a couple of them still left. All I know is that my father and several of the others who were with them were killed by the Mountain. They sent men to recapture Darry for me but," he stopped and looked towards the tent at nothing in particular. "The Lannister's are still holding it. The Mountain killed my Aunt and her children. I don't know who will fight for me anymore."

Nysa knelt in front of him. "I'm sure that the other river lords will do so once they reclaim their castles. I believe that's why Lord Tywin is retreating right now - because the Lords are regrouping against him. And I know for a certainty that Robb would fight for you. He is loyal to those who are loyal to him. His father taught him that."

Lyman nodded sadly as his lip began to tremble. Nysa pulled him into her lap and let the boy cry. She had done it the other night with Darion - she did not care what the other Lannister knights thought of their young cousin. He had to mourn his mother.

Lyman started to cry as Nysa ran her hands through his hair. "You'll see your home, one day, Lyman. I promise you," she closed her eyes and began to hum a tune.

It was not long until both Lyman and Catelyn were settled in Ser Lucion's bed while Jayne and she sat a distance away.

"I know that that," she gestured to the bed, "is probably not the most proper thing for a young Lady and a little Lord to do but..."

"It's fine," Jayne nodded. "I think this is the first time they are able to sleep without worrying if one of those bastards will harm them."

"Have they," Nysa looked to Jayne and she shook her head. "What about you?"

Jayne looked down sadly. "I think they were waiting until we came back to camp. On the road they," she paused and shook her head. "There was a girl at a tavern, Layna. Her father wouldn't service them because they're Lannister men. They took her on the table, one by one," she started to cry. "I knew after her, it would have been me and my sister. I did everything to prolong my sister and hope that they'd take me first," she wiped her face furiously and then turned to Nysa. "If it's true that you shot Lannister guards, I want you to do it again."

"I will."

"I want those men who ride with the Mountain! I want them to die!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Is there something you wish to say Torrhen," Robb asked as the some of the Lords began to depart. The only ones left in the tent now were his Kingsguard and his mother, Lord Karstark and Lord Umber.

"It is nothing, your Grace."

Robb licked his lips and sighed heavily. "I know something is on your mind. Now you are part of my personal guard, I will not ignore your counsel."

"Ramsay Snow cannot be trusted," Torrhen said, "and neither can his father."

Robb turned to his mother. "Explain," he gestured to Torrhen.

Torrhen took a step forward, standing in front of the table, his father looking earnestly at him. "Five, no," he started again, "six years ago a young maiden whom you grew up with was insulted at the Dreadfort. Now, I understand that she may be a low-born girl," Torrhen said, speaking of Nysa, "but she grew up with you. She sat down at your table, lived in Winterfell's walls, her brother, father and Uncle have given their lives for House Stark." Torrhen stepped closer as if to emphasize his point. "Nysa would not trust Ramsay with this and you know it."

The King of the North let out a heavy sigh. "There were no other options but to send..."

"He cannot be controlled," Torrhen raised his voice. "Do you know what he did to Nysa that day at the Dreadfort? Do you know why Jon Snow came close to beating him to death the next morning when he strolled in through hall, acting as though nothing happened," Torrhen narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't trust House Bolton to get this done for you."

"Then what would you have me do?"

"Send me back with some men, your Grace," Torrhen volunteered.

"Torr," his father stood but Torrhen held up his hand.

"Lord Bolton walks back to our camp, without my brother, without Lord Glover, or Ser Wylis! Two thousand of your men gone and he comes back as though nothing happened - the same as his son. I will not stand by idly and..."

"You are not just standing by," Robb stood up as well. He sighed and looked towards his mother. "I understand that everyone wants to go back North and get rid of the Greyjoy presence."

"This isn't the first time they've revolted against a King," Daryn began. "My father is loss, too. I should be going North to help defend our home. I'll go with Torrhen," he stood up, "take some of my men and crush this Greyjoy rebellion just as our fathers once did with your father," he nodded to Robb.

"To be honest," Robb looked around at all of them. "I rather have you here with me. You are right," he nodded to Torrhen. "There is no one who held more dislike for Ramsay than Nysa."

"What happened to Lady Nysa," asked Ser Perwyn.

Robb shook his head slightly. "I never knew what happened that day. I don't even think that my father or mother knows what happened," Robb turned to his mother who still sat sadly pondering the recent events. "But I know that things with Ramsay aren't right. Nysa was always treated differently than Ramsay. She was not hidden from the other Lords as Ramsay had been."

"I taught her to be a Lady," Lady Catelyn spoke up before looking away.

"My father saw to that," Robb looked at Ser Perwyn who nodded.

"Lord Stark was a kind and respectable man," the Lady knight, Brienne added with a slight bow.

"He was," Robb agreed looking back at the others who did not know Nysa. "Nysa was the bastard daughter of a knight who fought for House Stark and died. He didn't have to take her in but he did, brought her back to Winterfell and no one said anything about it," he made sure Ser Perwyn understood, "that is until we went to the Dreadfort and we met Ramsay," he nodded to Torrhen. "I can't even recall what triggered the altercation, only that there was animosity between the two of them from the beginning."

"She got to eat the table with everyone else," Eddard Karstark spoke up, "learn from the Maesters of our Houses."

"She visited with us at Last Hearth," Smalljon began, "as though she were of noble-birth."

"I remember after that visit, she seemed even more determined to learn the sword or the bow," Lady Dacey added. "She wanted to kill Ramsay Snow, you could see it in her eyes," she turned to Ser Perwyn. "My sisters and I helped her learn to use a few fighting techniques."

"I remember Harrion helping her with the sword," Eddard added, "he made her promise that she wouldn't use them on Ramsay though," he added which got a chuckle from many in the tent. "That was the day she brought her Valyrian steel sword with her," he glanced at Torrhen.

"If this Ramsay is questionable, then why send him," Patrek began.

"Because of who he is," Robb answered.

"Your grace..."

"I want Theon to suffer, the same as my brothers are no doubt suffering," Robb began. "I don't want his men to be handled with care. I want them to burn. They murdered Ser Rodrik, Nysa's uncle. Yes, I sent a man who is ruthless but I want the Ironborn to be dealt with in a ruthless manner."

Robb paused and sat back down.

"Theon betrayed me. I need him to go through as much pain as he is creating for me and those under my protection. I can only imagine what horrors Bran and Rickon are being subjected to. Did Theon make them watch Ser Rodrik's execution as the Lannisters made my sister's watch my father's?" He shook his head. "Theon brought that upon himself, so I sent someone who will do the worst onto him. As for Lord Bolton," he began. "Yes, I am upset that we lost more than two thousand men to the Lannister forces. I grieve for them, I really do. No one is more upset than I that Lord Bolton didn't immediately regroup with me. And no one seems to know where he went," Robb shook his head again. "But this is an opportunity for him to redeem himself." He looked around the table. "And that goes for all of my Lords. My father taught me to be just and merciful. Lord Bolton deserves such mercy."

He looked towards Torrhen then.

"I know you want to go. But I need you here, I need you to help me get Nysa back. I need you, Daryn, to stay here," he looked towards him. "You are the heir of Hornwood now. We don't know if your father has been captured or if he lay on the battlefield. There is a lot we do not know," he looked to Lord Karstark. "I cannot send either of you to face the Ironborn just yet. No," he shook his head, "you stay here and help me destroy the Lannisters."

"Your grace," a female's voice called out then and they all turned to see Lyra Mormont walk in. She had Alton Lannister with her. "Your messenger has returned," she pushed him towards the table as many of the others sneered at him.

"Ser Alton," Robb nodded to him.

"I've delivered your terms for peace to the Queen regent, your Grace."

"And what did she say?"

* * *

When the wagon went under the gates of Harrenhall, Nysa couldn't help but look around in awe. She had heard about what happened to this once strong and fortified castle. Her brother and Wyl rode behind the wagon along with Ser Daven Lannister - the son of Ser Stafford, her current patient. He had wakened twice during their journey and had spoken to her about how he was indebted to her. He'd wed his son to Nysa if that were the case but Ser Daven had violently protested marrying his cousin's whore.

Despite never laying with Ser Lucion, many of the soldiers knew not to violate her - for she belonged to Ser Lucion. And Ser Lucion was not just any mere knight or soldier. No, he was a Lannister and that held authority here in the South. That also meant that Jayne, Catelyn and Lyman were safe for the time being. She decided once in Harrenhall that she find someplace for them to hide away so that the Mountain would not search for them.

Ser Daven barely acknowledged her and at first, she wondered why he was keeping her secret safe as well. It's not like he owed her anything. Then when she found out that she was tending to his father - she found that Ser Lucion had arranged from yet another Lannister to be in debt to her.

 _It is about repaying a debt and a Lannister always pays his debts_ , she remembered Ser Jamie telling her when they were in King's Landing. In fact, that had been one of the last things he had told her until he left the Capital.

She barely had time to speak with Ser Lucion during their travel. Whenever they rested, he would set up his bed near to where she was but he didn't demand that she lay with him to keep up pretenses. No one questioned it. Jory did not like it at all - the rumor circulating about her keeping Ser Lucion's bed warm. He did not like the Lannister armor that he was now donning. But Ser Lucion assured both that he would have the men kept away from battle so that they would not have to face their fellow northmen.

"Are we there, yet?"

Nysa looked down to see Ser Stafford sitting up. "We are," she smiled as he began to pull his weight to get out of the wagon. "Ser..."

"I need to get out of this wagon and back on my feet," he grunted as he slid forward.

"But Ser..."

"Don't worry about me, girl," he said as he stood shakily on his own feet, right beside the wagon. Ser Daven strode up to his father with a slight smile on his face. "Give the girl something for her time."

"Ser, I did not do it to receive compensation," Nysa protested, jumping out after him.

"Nonsense," Ser Stafford chuckled.

Ser Daven reached behind him, taking out a small pouch and throwing it towards Nysa. She caught it and then held the pouch in confusion. It felt heavier than normal. Her fingers pulled on the opening and she gasped to see the sight. "Ser, I cannot accept this."

"Yes, you can and you will," Ser Stafford told her.

"There must be five gold dragons in here," she shook her head. "I can't..."

He pushed the pouch further into her hand and smiled. "You saved my life and a Lannister always pays his debt."

"Where's the girl?" They all turned to see Lord Tywin ride towards them. "There are some injured men here, please tend to them. Ser Stafford," he nodded to the man who replied in the same manner. "It is good to see you up and about."

"Thanks to this young woman here," Ser Stafford patted her shoulder before departing.

Nysa then hurried to get Jayne and Catelyn. She took them down to the kitchens and was surprised to see a familiar face there.

"Hot Pie!"

"Nysan," Hot Pie paused and looked her over. "Are those," he gestured to her chest and she stopped.

She explained to Hot Pie their situation and apologized over and over about deceiving him and the rest of those traveling but they needed to keep Arry safe. He said that he would speak to Arry later and she assured him that both she and Gendry were well and would like to see him and Lommy as well. Lommy was currently giving spare food to the prisoners and Nysa asked if Jayne, Catelyn and Lyman could be given work down there to keep out of sight from the Mountain and his men.

"So, we'll have to do work," Catelyn asked looking a bit flustered.

"It's only temporary," Nysa placed a hand on her shoulder. "Once everything is settled, my brother and the others will work out a plan for us to get North. Or perhaps they can get word to Robb and he can let your father know that you all are here."

"Was that your brother who was riding behind us," Lyman questioned.

Nysa nodded and turned to him. "I haven't had much time to talk to him since Lord Tywin had me tending to Ser Stafford. Now that he is well, I am to see to the others. But I know that in between work, I can find my brother and ask him more about it. I know that this isn't ideal for any of you," she looked around. "For now, this keeps you safe."

"And away from the other men," Jayne reminded her sister. "Thank you, Nysa."

Lyman asked if he could follow Nysa but she told him that it would be best if the men didn't see him so openly or they'd persecute him in some form or other. She did recruit Darion to assist her with tending to the Lannister troops who were hurt, though. There were a few who had wounds that needed to be cared for. She didn't enjoy the looks that she received from the others. It wasn't until she saw that some of the so called 'nurses' were entertaining the guards in other ways. She took Darion's hand and quickly led him away from the guards and back to where Ser Lucion could be found.

"We've underestimated the Stark boy for too long. He has a good mind for warfare. His men worship him," she heard Lord Tywin's voice as she entered the room.

She smiled lightly before nudging Darion forward towards where Ser Lucion stood. Ser Lucion turned to her and nodded. He gave her a small smile before leaning down to whisper something in Darion's ear.

"As long as he keeps winning battles, they'll keep believing he is King in the North! We've been waiting for him to fail, he is not going to fail," Nysa looked surprised at the mention of Robb being King in the North. She turned to Arya who looked over her shoulder quickly before returning to the task.

Darion hurried back to Nysa. "Ser Lucion said to choose a chamber for yourself and the other young women." Nysa looked up and smiled at Ser Lucion, which he returned. She had been distracted by it that she only heard Lord Tywin's voice grow louder.

She snapped her head away to look at him. "Go before I change my mind and send her your head!"

Ser Stafford cleared his throat before looking at the other man who stood up slowly. Nysa wondered what the conversation was but had been staring at Ser Lucion.

"If you weren't a Lannister, you'd be scrubbing out pots in the cook's tent. Now go," Lord Tywin barked as the man departed.

Darion even flinched and retreated a bit into Nysa's arms. She kept him steady as the Lannister Lord - whoever he was - exited the room. He looked humiliated and properly chastised by Lord Tywin. It was then that she realized he definitely was the most powerful Lord that there was. People had a right to fear him and Nysa wondered if they would make it out of here alive.

Arya watched the man leave as well and then hurried to pour Lord Tywin's cup.

"Not wine," he told Arya, "water, we'll be here for some time. Ah girl," Lord Tywin gestured to her and she stepped forward. "What is the well-being of the other guards here?"

"I've looked over the injured with the help of young Lord Darion, my Lord. Nothing serious," she answered simply, not wanting to overstay her welcome here.

"Thank you for my good brother," he nodded to Ser Stafford and she nodded in return. "Go and get something to eat," he waved Nysa off, "I'll have the boy call you if you're needed," he spoke of Darion who turned to her with a beaming smile.

I guess her thanks from Lord Tywin was receiving permission to eat a meal. She wanted to snort but held it back and quickly retreated, once again looking at Arya. Arya had better watch herself - she thought.

Nysa had just returned to the kitchen to see her brother, Wyl and Desmond speaking with Gendry - eating whatever Hot Pie was making. Hot Pie and Lommy were there and they were explaining their adventures since they got captured. She had just grabbed some bread and dipped a bowl into the pot her brother and others were sampling from. She grimaced at the look of it but took it nonetheless.

"So, you all are from the North then," Hot Pie questioned. "There's this Lord, a fat one..."

"Like you," Lommy added causing Hot Pie to turn to him angrily.

"Shut up!"

"What about this Lord," Jory asked in a stern tone causing the two to look at him.

"He's from the North also," Hot Pie said, "locked up in the cells."

"Oh him," Lommy rolled his eyes. "He's downright cruel that one. Called me a thief."

"You are a thief," Hot Pie pointed out.

"Shut up!"

"What colors did he have on," Nysa stepped forward excitedly. "Was he wearing a wolf or a sun or..."

"Neither," Hot Pie shook his head and reached for some fruit to put it into his mouth. Nysa grabbed his hand and pulled it away causing him to startle. "He has a man with a tail on his armor. Well on his old armor, 'cause they don't use 'um anymore in the cells."

"A man with a tail," asked Wyl.

"A merman," Nysa added, "House Manderly!"

She began rummaging through the kitchen for a large pot. "I've already fed them some scraps," Lommy said.

"They don't need scraps," Nysa protested. "Surely, you could make a warm broth or something better, Hot Pie."

" I could," he nodded, "but..."

"But what," she looked at him confused.

"If Ser Amory found out..."

Nysa waved her hand. "The Lannisters owe me a debt, they wouldn't let anything happen to you if I said so. Now come on," she urged.

Hot Pie helped Nysa fix up a huge pot of broth with pieces of pork and vegetables inside. He continued to worry about whether he would be okay and Nysa had to remind him every now and then about the debt. She also added that Arry was serving Lord Tywin's wine and made a joke that she could poison it if he was that scared. The thought immediately hit her and she wondered just how she or Arya could pull off murdering one of the most powerful Lords in the Seven Kingdoms.

She grabbed a few leather straps and had Hot Pie fit the pot so that she could carry it. Lommy went with her, carrying the bowls. He showed her where the prisoners were different. The first group of cells they passed, she noticed that they were filled with common people. When asked why, Lommy said that the men in charge here believe that they are harboring people who are fighting for the North in their homes.

"Here is where you wanted to go," Lommy gestured down a hall. "But I must warn you, they're not kind."

"They will be, when they see I'm here," she replied confidently before heading where he instructed her.

No one moved from deep within their cells. She looked around and couldn't help but feel disgusted at the sight. It was then that one of the men in the cells jumped forward and she took a quick step back.

"So, they sent a girl this time," the prisoner chuckled as a few others started to appear by the bars or through the opening in the doors, depending on where they were being held.

Nysa shook her head and tried to swallow down her fear as she approached the man. She noted that he didn't have any armor on but his tunic had a small merman embroidered on. "You serve House Manderly," she asked.

"What does that matter to you?"

"My name is Nysa Snow," she said as a few of the other prisoners began to murmur. "I grew up in Winterfell. Though I've never been to White Harbor, I've been friends with Lady Wynafryd for some time. Our name-days are..."

"You have presents that arrive at White Harbor from the South," he noted as Nysa smiled and nodded eagerly. "I escorted them twice from White Harbor to Karhold."

Nysa couldn't wipe the smile off her face if she wanted to. "I went there a couple time to assist Lady Mariah." She then proceeded to take out a bowl and scoop up some of the broth in it and hand it over to the prisoner. "As I said, my name is Nysa Snow. What is your name?"

"Symon," he nodded before taking the bowl.

"I know they said that you were fed but I thought I have them make something else, something with better taste."

"Thank you, my Lady."

She wanted to correct him but she decided to move on and continued to scoop bowls for the others who were there in the cell. She had just reached the second door when one of the Manderly men had called out to her. She looked at him expectantly, wondering what news he would give.

He whispered the words. "Ser Wylis is being kept somewhere else. He kicked one of the Lannister guards."

"Ser Wylis is here," Nysa's eyes widened before looking around.

"As I said, they keep him somewhere else for speaking back."

"Thank you," she reached in and touched his hand. "I'll look for him as soon as I'm done here."

"Thank you, Lady Nysa."

"Nysa?

She turned around and looked up at the door across the way. Through the opening on the top of the door she saw a familiar face and couldn't help but cry out joyfully. "Harrion," she smiled warmly and went towards the opening. She put the pot down and squeezed her hands inside - releasing a deep sigh when Harrion took hold of her hands. "We must get you out of here," she looked back at the Manderly guards. "Who else is in here?"

"A lot of us," Symon answered.

"What are you doing here, Nysa," Harrion rubbed her hands. "What on earth are you wearing and what happened to your hair?"

"We tried to escape King's Landing but got caught in the Riverlands."

"We?"

"My brother and a few guards from House Stark."

"How many," Harrion asked, hope filling his voice.

"Eight," Nysa answered and then closed her eyes, looking down. "Six, we lost two when we were captured by the Lannister's men. It's the reason why they cut mine and Arya's hair. They dressed us as boys so that the men would leave us alone. But then Lord Tywin could tell that we were girls and he," she paused and shook her head.

"Did you say Arya? Are the King's sisters here?"

"Just Arya," Nysa shook her head, "we weren't able to get Lady Sansa out. And what is it with Robb being called a 'King'? When did that happen?"

"Sometime after we received news that Lord Stark had been executed." Nysa's hands clenched and Harrion noticed. "You saw it happen, didn't you? His Grace is hoping that they didn't make any of you watch, especially his sisters."

"It's a long story, one that I will tell when we get all of you out of here," she said with determination.

"Where is the Princess Arya," Harrion asked causing Nysa to roll her eyes. Arya might not like being called 'princess'. She barely enjoyed the title of 'Lady'. "You said Lord Tywin could tell you weren't boys. Does he know exactly who you are?"

She shook her head. "We are posing as villagers from the Riverlands. There are two Lannister knights - one knows who I am and the other knows we're from the North. But they haven't said anything."

"Can they be trusted?"

She shrugged and looked away, wondering just how much he could tell Harrion. He would not like the idea of her spending her nights in the tent of a Lannister. They had never shared a bed but that wouldn't stop him from assuming the worst and then informing his brother. "I trust them enough at the moment to know that we won't be harmed. Where is Torrhen? Is he here?"

Harrion smiled before shaking his head. "Last time I saw him, he was going with King Robb to the Westerlands."

She slowly released his hands and he did the same, before gesturing her to come close as possible. He extended his hand as best he could and touched her cheek. He remembered the way Torrhen watched her in Karhold, or the way he danced with her in Last Hearth and Winterfell. He was surprised that Torrhen had waited so long to speak about his feelings to father. Edd had suggested for Torr to just bed the girl. Torrhen wanted to make her his lady, not his whore. When the ravens came from Winterfell, Torrhen was the one who was saddled and ready to go - ready to go and bring his Nysa back home.

"My brother is going to jump for joy when he sees you," Harrion said causing Nysa to close her eyes against his hand. A tear came down and fell onto his fingers. "None of that, you hear," he teased as she smiled and pulled back. "This will all be over soon, Nysa. We'll all go back home."

She nodded and then pulled away from the opening.

"There are over two hundred of us in here. Lord Cerwyn is still alive and locked somewhere," Harrion told her. "There are men from House Glover, House Hornwood and a few from the Riverlands as well."

Nysa walked further back inside the cells to distribute the broth. Many of the men welcomed her gladly, some had recognized her - such as Lord Medger Cerwyn, Ser Kyle Condon, Lord Robett Glover - who she exchanged stories with of his wife, giving him happy memories. She was a bit surprised that someone like Lord Glover would be here. He was a strong and fierce fighter. Then again, she was shocked that they had captured Harrion - another brave man. She found Ser Donnel Locke who sent her towards the cell next to his.

"Do you not want," she held up the bowl.

Ser Donnel shook his head. "You have to go to the next cell over," he instated.

Furrowing her brow, she put down the bowl and large pot. Taking a few steps there, she was surprised by how dirty and cold this cell was. She wondered who was here and prayed that it wasn't her Uncle, Ser Rodrik.

"Lord Hornwood," she screamed and tried desperately to reach for him through the bars.

"Lady," he coughed and turned away, "Nysa," another cough before she saw the blood.

"What happened," she pulled on the bars. "I need to get in there."

"Go," his voice was weak. "Go before they find you!"

"I can't leave you," she shook her head.

A painful groan came from the Lord. "It's too late."

"No!"

"Girl!"

She cringed at the voice and heard the prisoners stand up immediately, gripping the bars and begging her to run. Nysa turned around to see the imposing figure of the Mountain staring down at her.

"Does Lord Tywin know you are down here," Ser Gregor questioned.

"He said to make sure that the prisoners are well," Nysa lied, wondering how she could talk herself out of this. "They must look unharmed if the young Wolf is to accept them back."

Ser Gregor's eyes narrowed at her. "How do you know of his plans?"

She didn't but she had to think of something. And obviously, this was a correct assumption. "I told you, his lordship asked to make sure that they are well. Ah," Nysa released a small scream as the Mountain grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Lord Hornwood.

"Don't lie to me, girl," he snarled before leaning down to sniff her hair. "I bedded a young maiden such as yourself once. You smell like her. You look like her. I wonder if you'll scream like her."

"Please don't," Nysa tried to get out of his grip.

He dragged her out and back towards the way she came. The entire time, the northerners were screaming and shouting at him to put her back. She had just pulled free when they landed back in front of Harrion's cell.

"I have to tend to that Lord there. If he dies, the young Wolf will be upset," she pleaded.

"We will see what Lord Tywin has to say about this! And if I find out you are lying to me," he pulled her against him, took a firm hold of her bottom and squeezed it painfully before muffling her scream with his other hand. "You are mine for the night."

"No," Harrion shouted and banged against the bars as the Mountain led Nysa out of the cells, laughing as they disappeared.

* * *

Ser Preston held the young woman close to him and continued towards the door where he knew could get them into the keep. He had just rounded the corner when one of the men who held Sansa had jumped onto his back. He couldn't very well fight the men off as he did earlier - not with Sansa in his arms. Before he could turn to face the man, blood splattered across his face and he noticed the Hound standing behind him.

"Get the girl inside," the Hound growled at Ser Preston as he lifted his sword at another man.

Ser Meryn opened the door for them, both annoyed and relieved when they entered. "Lady Sansa," Tyrion came towards them then. "Are you hurt," he asked as Sansa continued to grip onto Ser Preston's arm. She refused to turn and look at anyone.

"She has a few cuts," Ser Preston replied before attempting to settle her on her feet. "We are alright, my Lady. We are back in the keep."

"They tried to," she spoke softly and began to sob in his arms, "they could have."

"But they didn't," he replied as her shoulders wracked with grief. Ser Preston looked over at Tyrion who was eyeing his nephew with anger and frustration. "I do not know how to comfort a crying woman."

"What man does," Tyrion questioned with light humor before reaching up to touch Sansa's arm. "Rest easily, my Lady, you are safe. Though," he turned to look at his nephew and shook his head, "as safe as she can be. Take her to her rooms," he ordered Ser Preston who nodded.

Sansa continued to weep in his arms. This wasn't the first time that he had seen her in distress and this wasn't the first time that he had come to her aid. He remembered when he and Ser Arys were ordered to slap her. She had just been beaten in front of court and to his horror - Ser Meryn had done it gladly and willingly. He was thankful that Lord Tyrion had walked through the door and knew immediately that if he wasn't sent there that Joffrey would continue to bring down calamity upon the poor girl. However, when he and Ser Arys were watching over them during their luncheon there was no Lord Tyrion to stop it.

Ser Arys looked reluctant to hit her at first but continued through with it. And when he picked her up, he jerked her so violently that her head fell back and that was when he took the opportunity to feign the slap. He barely grazed her face, causing her to turn immediately back to him in shock that he hadn't slap her. Later that night, he offered her a lemon cake - hearing from her handmaiden, Shae - that they were a favorite of hers. She quietly asked why he had not slapped her and instead of answering that question, he told her that Lady Nysa asked to make sure Sansa was kept safe. The girl began to cry once more and for what reason he was not sure but he left her alone after placing the lemon cake on the table.

Shae nodded her thanks before the door was closed. This time has he took her to her rooms, Shae was there and panicked at seeing Sansa in such a state.

"The King," she asked and Ser Preston looked at her cautiously before helping Sansa to her bed.

"A riot," Ser Preston answered. "A mob attacked the royal party," he said as Sansa turned away and began to cry once more. "The Lady was separated from everyone."

"Thank you, Ser knight," Shae said as she got some cloth and warm water ready to tend to Sansa.

"If possible, may I have a word with the Lady," he said causing Shae to look at him, "alone."

Shae eyed him warily but did as requested and went towards the door. She turned to face Ser Preston and Sansa but did not depart. "I am far away enough to not hear your conversation," she said to the knight.

Ser Preston smiled at her outright disobedience to a member of the Kingsguard and in turn, her shining loyalty to defend her Lady. He turned back to Sansa and tapped her shoulder and waited for her to face him.

"I know that you need rest but I just wanted to give you this," he reached into his armor and around the hidden pocket in his tunic to retrieve the letter he received yesterday. "After you read it, I suggest that you burn it."

Sansa stared at the letter in his hand, still not sure who she could or could not trust here in King's Landing. She pushed herself to sit up, slowly took the letter and unfolded it. She stared down at it, immediately feeling a sense of relief, contentment and joy overtake her. Sansa looked up at Ser Preston sitting on her bed.

"She said to give it to you when the time is right. There never seemed to be a time where I could get you alone," he explained as Sansa felt her lips twitch upwards for the first time in weeks since her father's execution.

Sansa gasped and sobbed happily like a mad person reading through the letter again and again. She covered her mouth and couldn't help but clutch the letter towards her chest, looking over at Ser Preston with watery eyes and appreciation in her smile.

"Get some rest, my Lady," he stood up and turned to see Shae walking towards them then. He looked back at Lady Sansa, "remember what I said about the letter."

She nodded and thanked him again as he departed from the room. Sansa stood up, not waiting for Shae, and walked towards the fireplace. She stirred up a few of the heated embers in there before throwing the note inside.

"My Lady," Shae began to look at the fire questionable and a bit surprised.

"It was nothing, Shae," Sansa said softly as she watched the small flame take over the words on the parchment.

 _Forgive me, Sansa for not being able to get you out safely, also not coming back for you. The decision will haunt me forever to know that I failed your father in protecting both you and Arya. I do not know what they have told you but Arya and I are alive and well. We are escaping King's Landing today with the help of Ser Preston. Jory says we are to ride North. But I believe we will meet Robb on the road. Once we do, we will get you out of there, Sansa. I promise. Know that we are fighting for you, Sansa. Your brother, your mother, your sister and I, including the entire North. We are fighting for you - the wolf among the lions._

* * *

Eddard shook his brother's hand before going to mount on his horse. He was journeying with the King to Ashemark. Lord Damon Marband had decided to surrender and pledge fealty to Robb and that was only if he went there himself. Word had arrived that Robb had the Lannister's army retreating and scattered with every battle that he won. Despite their initial dislike for Ramsay Snow, he had been one of the main commanders in helping to destroy forces at Golden Tooth - something that had put Lord Bolton within Robb's good graces. And now Ramsay had left for the North to dispatch of the Greyjoys in the North.

"Patrek, Torrhen and Daryn," Robb commanded the three of them as they stood at attention. "I want you all to keep guard over the Kingslayer."

Robb knew that being in the Westerlands with Ser Jamie in their camp wasn't the best location to keep him. At the same time, being in the middle of a few Westerland castles weren't helping either. What did help was that the Lannisters were not coming to the aid of their men. And Robb knew why.

"We have one thing that Lord Tywin wants," he said looking at Daryn. "And soon we will have a second," he added causing the men to cheer. "And with those two prizes, you know he will give us everything we want. His daughter can tear up any paper that she wants," Robb took out his sword and Grey Wind seem to acknowledge that they were about to ride. "For the North!"

"The North," his men shouted as they left the grounds near Castamere.

"Well, who gets first watch," Patrek teased Torrhen and Daryn, knowing full well that they had yearned for a battle.

It had been some time since they had fought and they were somewhat envious of Robb choosing only four of his personal guards to accompany him. The other three were to protect his mother, which they knew there was no need to, especially with that lumbering woman that was following Lady Catelyn. So, they were left to play guard over the Kingslayer.

"I'll go," Torrhen sighed as Patrek laughed at him.

Torrhen found himself a small bowl of meat before heading towards the cage where the Kingslayer was being held. He held up the torch to see the two Lannisters were on opposite ends of the cage, speaking about how they were kin. He couldn't help but snort at their conversation before setting himself up by a nearby log.

He sat down and looked out over the camp, hearing the men converse, shout and laugh about whatever it is that they were speaking of.

Every now and then he'd look back at the cage to make sure that there were still two figures there and no one else was around them.

His watch was just about to end and he was glad for it. He did not like sitting about idly. He was a hunter, a fighter, a lover - he smiled at the last part and thought about what King Robb said regarding Nysa. Perhaps, they'd name a son after him, he mused in his head as he saw Daryn a distance away, stretching as he exited from the tent. He had not taken any of the stray women floating around the camp and for a moment he was glad. He wouldn't want Daryn to make the same mistake with Alys that Torrhen had made with Nysa. Then again, Daryn and his sister were betrothed. Nysa and he were not - at least not yet.

A sudden gasping noise had his head turning towards where the Kingslayer was kept. He took out his sword and ran full speed towards the cage to see that there was a body on the ground and the Kingslayer was turned to the side.

"What happened," he asked.

"What," the Kingslayer turned to him, looking dazed and confused.

Torrhen cursed and walked towards the fallen Lannister man, turning him over. The King would not be pleased that someone had died on his account - especially if that were a Lannister. He shook his head and was just about to stand when a force pulled him down.

A chain wrapped around his neck and he struggled to hit the person behind him. He stretched his hand, feeling for the sword he had dropped but he could feel the hold on his neck tightening.

No, he wanted to scream.

Not now, he thought desperately as his mind become flooded with darkness.

His hands moved around and he struggled to keep his mind in the present, to save his breath, to save his energy. But Torrhen had so much left to fight for, so much. Not now, he begged.

His arms grew weak, his voice was gone, his eyes were heavy and his body was becoming slack.

Torrhen tried to focus on something else, anything but the air that was being sucked out of him. His throat hurt, his arms, his mouth - everything. He felt one final pull of the chain on his life. The last thing that came to his mind as he took his breath was Nysa walking into the godswood, torches lighting her path, with a smile on her face.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Nysa," Harrion sighed in relief at seeing her. "I was not sure if they'd allow you to come back down here," he said before his expression darkened. "What is that on your face? Did he hurt you? I'll make him pay, I swear it!"

She shook her head and brushed her hair from her face. It had grown out some but not a lot. Her hair fell to her shoulders now and there wasn't much she could do with it, especially since they were still considered to be prisoners. Harrion saw the distressed look on her face and motioned for her to step forward. She did so, leaning up to place her face by the opening on the top of the door. He smiled and she returned it before she looked down and started to cry.

"What happened after you left," Harrion asked, praying that the Mountain had not touched her.

"He took me to Lord Tywin like he said he would," she looked up and wiped her face before smiling gently at him. "I wasn't harmed."

"That discoloration on your cheek tells me otherwise," Harrion scoffed.

"He slapped me but nothing else," she tried her best to put on a brave face.

Harrion knew the look well. She was not telling the truth, he knew that much. He was certain that the young woman had not been raped but he also knew that she was probably hit or punched on some other part of her body, someplace that could stay hidden. She had rubbed her arm when walking in and winced when she tried to lean towards the opening. It wasn't much but it was enough to inform him that the Mountain had probably hit her a few times before taking her to Lord Tywin. He couldn't imagine the fear going through her mind at the time. The Mountain could have raped her first but instead he settled for beating her.

He didn't like this. He wanted to be outside, protecting her. All his brother could talk about for the past two years had been this young woman in front of him. She had been a part of Harrion's young manhood as well. She had been there to help bring his sister into the world, assist his mother, encourage his youngest brother and many more. And yet, he hung his head, he couldn't protect her if the Mountain decided to take her.

"None of that," she whispered.

Harrion looked up and noticed that just like how he could read her expressions, she could read his. She had watched them train in the yard for days on end whenever she visited Karhold. Of course, she would pick up on it.

He smiled back and nodded.

"You have the same look as your father whenever he can't get Alys to stop crying," she smiled as did he.

"She wanted to come you know," he shook his head, "can you imagine my sister in a war camp?"

"With three older brothers like you, Edd and Torr," Nysa replied, "I can."

They both shared a laugh and Harrion told himself, once he exited, he'd kill the Mountain for laying a hand on her - for Nysa was like his sister also.

"What did Lord Tywin say," he asked once they both stopped.

"He's allowing me to tend to all of you. I just need to see to the Lannister soldiers first before I can look at anyone else."

"Lord Tywin is allowing it," he narrowed his eyes.

Nysa looked away. "He isn't pleased that Lord Hornwood passed. There is talk about an exchange of prisoners. Lord Hornwood was among those who were listed, along with you and Ser Wylis."

"So, he wants you to keep us comfortable and alive or else Robb won't agree to any exchange," Harrion mulled over in his head.

"I'm working on getting some of you out of here and perhaps in better living conditions," she stated, "I can't tend to anyone in a cell."

"You are unharmed, though," Harrion reached again for her cheek and she smiled lightly before nodding.

A twinkle appeared in her eyes. "You forget that I've trained with House Mormont, House Glover and House Karstark to withstand any small bruise."

Harrion's laughter echoed in the cells. He shook his head at her playfulness and smiled, the first real smile since he had been taken prisoner.

They continued on in conversation until Nysa became aware that she needed to go through the rest of the prisoners. She had possibly only seen half of them the day before last. The further she got to the other cells - with her large pouch of bandages, herbs and remedies - did she realize that there were more than just Northern bannermen here in Harrenhal.

She knelt in front of one cell that held soldiers she did not recognize. After watching them for a while in silence, one of them turned to look at her and sneered.

"Come to entertain us, Lannister whore," he smirked, baring his teeth as the other men began to rouse.

"I'm not a whore," she said in a determined tone.

"You want to be one," a second one leered, causing her to jump back.

The men in the cell, including those nearby began to laugh at her also. She stood up, grabbing her brother's dagger. They continued to laugh harder until she reached in, grabbed one of them by the collar and held the knife to the back of his head. The man tried to reach back, but the bars were helping to keep him away. Even the others in the cell could not reach Nysa.

"I'm only going to say this one more time, I am not a whore," she shouted, causing the men to nod and agree with her. She released the man and scurried back to spit on the ground. "I came here to tend to the wounded but since you insulted me to my face," she turned but one of them called out to her.

"Please," he begged before pointing in another direction, "we fight for House Frey."

"House Frey," Nysa narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes," he nodded, "I believe one of our Lords is near death."

Nysa turned to face the direction to which the prisoner was gesturing to see that this Lord was also placed in a dark cell. She walked slowly over to see that there were five cells with doors on them. Releasing a deep sigh, she continued.

One of the prisoners jumped out towards the front, causing Nysa to shriek. "Forgive me, my Lord. I am only here to tend to the wounded. I..."

"Lady Nysa?"

She stepped further towards the door and shook her head.

"Ser Danwell Frey," Nysa let out a laugh. "What are you doing here?"

"I was captured, obviously," he smiled at her. "What about you?"

"The same," she shrugged, "only that I'm allowed to walk about the grounds."

"And what is the price for such freedom?"

"I have to tend to the wounded Lannister soldiers," she rolled her eyes, causing him to laugh harder.

"Who is there?"

She turned to the other door to see another Frey she had met during the tourney at King's Landing. "Ser Hosteen," she smiled and walked towards his door. "Are you well?"

"Well as can be," his large form strode towards the opening in the door.

"I was told that one of you is ill."

"Here," another man said. Nysa walked over to see Ser Jared in the cell. "My brother," he motioned to the last cell beside him. "He's dying."

"Dying," Nysa questioned before turning to the door.

She looked at the lock, examining it before leaning up to look through the opening. On the ground, curled in a fetal position was the dying Frey. Nysa knew she had to get inside. She dropped her bag of supplies before running outside to find Ser Lucion. He gave her the keys, instead of following her - which was a huge surprise. She didn't dare question it as she ran back to the cells. She hurried and began to unlock another door to which Ser Jared stepped out.

"My brother..."

"I'll need help," she said before hurrying to his brother's cell.

She flung the door open and knelt in front of the man. He groaned as she began to examine his body with her hands.

"Forgive me. What is your name, Ser?"

"Stevron," he coughed weakly before gasping for air.

"It's going to be alright," Ser Jared took his brother's hands in his.

"I..."

Nysa stopped him. "Don't speak, I need you to save your strength." She looked up at Ser Jared. "Why was he even fighting in the first place," she questioned.

"Pride to serve our King," he replied looking down at his brother, "and our future Queen."

"Future Queen," Nysa asked.

"Yes," Ser Jared answered, "King Robb is to wed one of our sisters."

Nysa stared at the Frey knight in front of her in shock. Did she hear correctly? Robb was betrothed to a Frey? She couldn't think about anything else. Suddenly the words that he told her held no meaning, they were fruitless. All that hope she had was gone. Then again, she knew that they could never be. And she was going to be with Torrhen. She'd explain her predicament to Lord Karstark when they would meet again. And she wrote to Robb. Surely, he wouldn't deny his father's wishes to have her betrothed to Torrhen Karstark. But Robb was betrothed? Was that the reason why he had not been writing to her?

"My lady?"

She shook her head and turned back to see Ser Stevron gasping for air. They both made decisions, she was going to be with Torrhen and he could wed his Lady Frey. It was just the way things were meant to be. She shook her head again and tried to focus.

"Where is the wound?"

Ser Jared helped to move his brother into another position so that Nysa could tend to the wound. She ran her hand lightly over the soiled bandage before removing it slowly. He groaned and hissed and every inch of bandage that was peeled away.

"He hasn't been properly tended to," Nysa commented.

"He said that it was nothing serious," Ser Jared countered.

"I find it hard to believe that Robb would allow elderly men to fight for him," she shook her head.

Ser Jared turned to look at her. "If I remember correctly you are a member of the Stark household. You shouldn't speak that way of your Lord and King," he advised her as Nysa did her best not to snort. "And besides, we are not only fighting for his Grace."

Of course, Nysa thought with a sense of bitterness. Whoever this Frey girl was, she was also a Lady, a high-born. Robb would never wait for her, couldn't even tell his father, she thought before shaking her head. No, she had Torrhen now. There was no need to dwell on the past.

 _"Why give birth to hope when there is none?"_

 _"Because I have a feeling that there could be_ ," Robb had replied.

Oh, she was such a fool!

"His body is badly bruised," Ser Jared described, pulling her from her thoughts.

Her eyes looked down at the wound and she shuddered. She had seen this type of infection before. Ser Stevron had the same sort of illness as Lady Sarra Umber. It was a disease that took over the body. The blood, the body, the bruising, she thought as she examined him again. Nysa had to do the same thing she had done with Lady Sarra. She shook her head and went to stand up.

His brother turned to watch her. "What is it?"

"It is more than just the wound," Nysa answered. "He has a sickness," she walked out of the cell, "I've seen it before."

"If you've seen it before, then you can treat it," he stood up and followed her.

"No, I can't!"

"You can't or you won't," he questioned.

"You don't understand," she shook her head. "I don't even remember what I did or how..."

"But you can at least try, can't you," he looked desperate and Nysa tried not to glance at Ser Stevron or his brother. "Please, my lady," he said softly.

Nysa thought about it and offered up a silent prayer to the Gods - the old and the new - though she was sure that at the moment they were too far to hear. She wasn't near a Sept or in any godswood.

This knight was fighting for Robb, fighting for Sansa, fighting for Lord Stark, she reminded herself. He was also a member of House Frey, sworn to House Tully - Lady Stark's home. She loved the Starks - all of them.

She had promised she'd never use the same method of healing. It had frightened her. It was dangerous.

 _Nysa raised her hands slowly and shook her head, looking back up at Lord Stark. "I don't know why I did it, Lord Stark," her eyes watered. "I'm scared! I don't want to die!"_

 _"Who said anything about dying," he questioned._

 _"I'm a witch! I performed a curse. I'm a cursed child! How else..."_

 _Lady Catelyn pulled her closer, sheltering Nysa from the others who were looking their way. "You are not a witch, you hear?"_

 _Lord Stark nodded and moved her face to look up at him. "To heal the sick and dying is not a curse," he added. "What you did was a skill that few possess, not even the greatest of Maesters could do that. You are not a witch, Nysa." He paused before leaning closer. "We'll talk more on what happened later, when we go back to Winterfell."_

 _She nodded before he took a step back and decided to make an announcement - the announcement that everyone else would hear._

 _"You have saved the Lady Umber from death," Lord Stark noted loudly._

 _She merely nodded her head - knowing that what had happened in Lady Sarra's room would stay quiet for now - while the others in the courtyard began to cheer._

She sighed, knowing that saving a life was more important than keeping this curse a secret. Nysa looked towards Ser Jared. "There's a torch at the front door," she told him, "I need you to get it for me."

"What do you need a torch for?"

"To save your brother," she looked at Ser Stevron and walked slowly back inside.

She moved Ser Stevron's body to lay flat. She removed his soiled tunic and began to do the same with his breeches when Ser Jared returned. "What are you doing?"

"I need his body free so that the fire can do its work," she explained.

"Fire," he questioned in an angry tone.

"Do you want me to save your brother or not," her head snapped towards him. "Now set the torch down right here," she pointed to his feet. Nysa took a deep breath and tried to push all her emotions to the surface. She remembered being very angry and saddened when the Maester said Lady Sarra was dead.

 _"She's not dead," Nysa shouted at Maester Horman._

 _"Nysa," Lady Stark urged her away from the body, "why don't you go and see Arra?"_

 _"I will tell her that her mother lives! I will tell her," Nysa screamed as Lady Stark pulled her hands away from Nysa as though she were burned. Nysa flew forward onto Lady Umber's body as the room grew dark._

Nysa's eyes opened and her hands moved slowly out to hover above Ser Stevron's body. Ser Jared wasn't the only shocked by what he was seeing. The young Lady had somehow taken the flame from the torch and was now part of her hands. The emotions of Lord Stark's death and her failure at keeping Sansa safe overwhelmed Nysa, causing the flames to turn blue as they had done with Lady Umber. She sighed as she felt the heat take over and pushed it over Ser Stevron's body.

Ser Hosteen, Ser Danwell and their brother Ronel could see the bright blue glow from the opening in their doors. It glowed bright as their cells began to shake. Nysa's mouth opened to release a screech, loud and long. Ser Jared began to panic. He wanted to hit the young woman over the head. But the subtle rise of his brother's body made him realize that she was indeed healing him. Finally, the flames withdrew from Ser Stevron and disappeared in the air, causing Nysa to slump over slightly.

Ser Jared reached out to touch her but she held up her hand. "I need to cool down," she whispered as he nodded and turned his attention to his brother.

"He is still wounded."

"But is he infected," she asked, causing Ser Jared to tilt his head and examine him closer.

"No," he shook his head and smiled.

"Jared," Stevron's eyes fluttered open.

Ser Jared smiled down at his brother. "We still need to bandage your wound but," he paused and chuckled, "my brother you are well again."

Nysa went to stand up and it was then that Ser Jared reached for her. He looked down at his hand and so did Nysa - but he didn't remove it. "Do not ask my what happened," she said as her chest began to heave in fear. What would the Frey knight do to her now, especially since she had freed him from his cell? "As I said, I've only done it once before to save someone's life. I don't know why I am able to do it or how it occurs. All I know is that it helped the Lady to get well again. She bore her husband two more children for a total of five and is still alive to this day."

"Thank you," was his simple reply before turning to exit and walking towards his cell.

"You're not going to..."

"To what," he looked back at her over his shoulder, "run away, kill you? Perhaps inform the guards that you did me and my House a service by keeping my brother alive," he smiled before walking into his confinement.

"Are you injured," she questioned.

"It's just a scratch from a blade," he looked at his arm.

Nysa shook her head and began to undo the dressings on his arm. She explained that it was best to put clean bandages and rub some clean water and fresh herbs on the wound to fight off infection. Ser Jared admitted that it did feel less painful and itchy now that she had tended to it. She had stepped back from him and nodded her head that she would check on him and the others tomorrow. It was best that way.

"I will make sure that my father hears of what you've done. Believe me, the entire House Frey will be glad to know that you helped save their future Lord."

He pulled the door closed and motioned for her to lock it up.

She did as was told before heading back towards Ser Stevron's cell to see him sitting up, staring in wonderment at his hand.

"Is something wrong, Ser?"

He looked up at her and shook his head. "I feel better, much better," he added before chuckling. "I can't even feel the pain."

"A side effect of the healing," she waved it off before gesturing for him to redress himself.

"Ah, forgive me," he said as he began to put on his clothes.

"If you wish, I may inquire about getting you new garments," she said as she looked away from him.

"There is no need," he said before clearing his throat to indicate that he was finished.

Nysa turned back and went to help him apply a few herbs to his back before wrapping a bandage around it. She explained that the herbs would help to heal the body quicker and ease the pain. He may not have felt anything now but he might later tonight. Hence the reason why she had placed the herbs there. He thanked her and as she walked out, locking the cell behind her, she heard several men from House Frey thanking her.

* * *

Jory nodded before wiping his mouth from where the blood trickled. It wasn't much but it was enough. The boy was improving, he admitted that much, especially now that he had a hammer in his other hand.

"You'll do good," Wyl chuckled at seeing Jory's disheveled state.

Gendry smiled lightly before looking down and nodding, moving his hands, "feels awkward."

"To hold a hammer, boy," snorted Desmond. "Nonsense! You're a smith, you know how to use one."

"You know how to use it well," Jory added before gesturing for Gendry's hammer. "There is an advantage to making a sword. You know it's make, its edges." He smiled. "You also know that it was a hammer that helped to forge it. Therefore, you use the hammer to break it," he handed it back to Gendry. "There is no need to feel awkward about fighting with a hammer. This will protect you better than the sword."

Gendry took it back. Alyn was the next to step in front of Gendry as they began to spar.

Jory stepped back and watched from the side until he saw his sister walking towards them with a concerned look on her face. He had not seen her in days. Though Arya had appeared a couple times where they were, his sister had yet to make her presence. Wyl had told him that she was tending to the Lannister men, the same way they had her tending to Ser Stafford. They all knew that she wasn't keen on saving the lives of men who were fighting against House Stark. But she had to do what she had to do in order to survive - without becoming someone's bed warmer.

He had gone to the kitchens and learned from a young woman there named Jayne that they all shared a room with a large bed, so Jory knew that she was not sleeping in a room that belonged to a Lannister. Despite knowing that she was safe and that Arya was not being harmed, he couldn't help but feel relieved at seeing her. The relief quickly vanished when he studied her face. He narrowed his eyes before hurrying forward. She had a bruise on her cheek. He almost didn't want to know where it had come from.

"Do not fret," she smiled reassuringly as he got closer. "It was just a misunderstanding."

"I do not care, was this the Lannister knight?"

Jory began to look her over but she pulled back and shook her head. "I am alright," she repeated before licking her lips and looking down.

"Are you really?"

She shook her head.

"This isn't about the bruise, is it?"

"No."

"Then what happened, Nysa?"

"Robb is to wed a Frey," she replied as some of the Alyn stopped his sparring. Wyl and Desmond turned to look at her as well. "A couple days ago, when we first arrived, and Hot Pie had informed me that there were Northern men in the cells," she said as they came to stand before her. "Lord Hornwood passed away, I wasn't able to help him in time. The Mountain found me and took me back to Lord Tywin."

"Why didn't you come and find me sooner," Jory questioned as the other men cursed and vowed revenge.

"There never seemed to be the time."

"Who else is prisoner here?"

"Harrion Karstark," she began to name, "Ser Donnel Locke, Lord Cerwyn, Lord Glover," she said, "there are men from their Houses, guards from House Manderly and Hornwood and," she sighed and shook her head, "there are those of House Frey in there as well who have pledged their fealty to Robb. They are saying he is the King of the Trident."

"King of the Trident," they all questioned with confusion.

"Members of House Frey are saying that Robb is to wed their sister and make her the Queen."

"A move done to get House Frey as an ally, no doubt," Alyn commented.

"That's probably how he could move South so quickly and without detection from the Lannisters," Desmond added. "He had to pass through the Twins."

Both Wyl and Jory saw the despondent look on Nysa's face and Jory excused himself along with his sister.

"It's not like I was hoping for him," she said once they were a distance away.

"You did care for him," Jory nodded. "There's no sense in downgrading your affection."

"I'm not like the Lady Frey. I had nothing to offer," she stopped and turned to look at her brother. "No guards, no army, no name," she started to laugh as the tears came down. "It doesn't matter, right? I mean, you and Lord Stark gave permission for me to wed Torrhen Karstark," she tried to smile, "and I'm sure Robb would honor his father's wishes in allowing me to have Greenhall. I did write to Robb and tell him that, so..."

"Oh, Nysa," Jory sighed and pulled his sister into his arms.

"I love Torrhen," she whimpered in her brother's embrace.

"I know you do."

"Torrhen and I will wed," she cried, squeezing her brother's body closer.

"You will," he kissed her forehead. "But that doesn't erase the fact that you had cared about young Robb Stark also." He pushed his sister back and smiled gently at her. "I know it must hurt to hear news that he is to wed someone else."

"So soon," she whispered, "so soon, after he asked me to stay back in Winterfell with him?"

"It's been almost a year now, Nysa."

"He never wrote to me! Was he so ashamed of me that..."

"Stop it, Nysa," he scolded her gently. "You admitted it yourself that you and Robb could never be. I had warned you not to hope for anything. You decided while we were back in King's Landing that you would accept Lord Stark's offer of Greenhall and wed Torrhen. I approve of Torrhen and so did Lord Stark. Your Lord Uncle may put up a fuss about it but let me ask you something, Nysa," he gestured for them to move somewhere else. "Who asked for your hand? Who rode towards Winterfell because he was determined that you wouldn't leave the North until he told you that he is in love with you. There was only one man who did that."

"There is," she nodded sadly.

"You made your decision. You chose Torrhen. You cannot fault Robb for choosing another."

* * *

Arya went over to the table, desperately thinking about how she was to get out of this.

"I traveled here from Renly Baratheon's camp," Littlefinger stated.

"Ah, the late King Renly," Lord Tywin replied, "rather short reign, murdered by a woman."

Arya poured the cup and placed it a distance away where he would not have to look at her. She took the other cup, to fearful and nervous about being seen. Shakily she poured a cup for Lord Tywin and once again tried to concentrate on what she was hearing but it was being increasingly difficult. She went back to clean the table, every now and then looking up at Lord Baelish to hear his story.

"After the Lannisters and the Starks, the Tyrells command the largest host. Their lands are most fertile in the Seven Kingdoms, breeding horses and soldiers," he began.

"Yes, yes," Lord Tywin agreed as though he had heard the story many times over.

"The Tyrells have not yet declared for any of the surviving Kings."

Arya finally realized what Baelish was attempting to do. He was trying to sway Lord Tywin towards entering an alliance with the Tyrells. She had to bite back a curse at realizing how conniving Littlefinger could be. She wished Nysa was here, they'd poison his wine or something malicious like that.

"Loras wants revenge. He blames Stannis for Renly's death. And Margery," he began.

"Wants to be Queen," Tywin finished for him.

"Yes, she does."

"House Tyrell rebelled against the Iron Throne, against my grandson."

"They did," he acknowledged as Arya turned her back to him and continued to clean the table. "Perhaps that treason should be punished, one day. After Stannis and Robb Stark are defeated."

She paused in her working until Lord Tywin barked at her. "More wine for Lord Baelish."

Arya hurried to grab the pitcher.

"If you would allow me to represent your family's interests, I believe that an advantageous and..."

"The Tyrell host has returned to High Garden," Lord Tywin commented.

Of course, the slimy Littlefinger would be arranging alliances such as these. Now he wanted to lure House Tyrell into a trap the same way he did with her father. She thought about Renly's death and wondered if it was not Baelish's doing. This man betrayed her father, he betrayed people. He had a way with words that seemed to convince the naive. Arya didn't want to think that her father was naive but she hated that her father had trusted him so completely only for him to...

"They have," he said as Arya accidentally spilled onto his hand.

She gasped and continued to act the part. "Pardon, my Lord," she said, wiping the spill.

Littlefinger chuckled. "It's only wine," he replied. She hesitantly looked at him and saw him tilt his head at her. Gods, how could she be so stupid? He might have recognized her!

"You would ride there yourself?"

"Tonight," he answered Lord Tywin, "with your leave."

"I'll announce it at nightfall," Lord Tywin replied. "That will be all, girl."

She moved to put the pitcher back - all the while feeling eyes on the back of her. She had set the trays and other items down when she heard her mother's name. Arya had just reached the door when she heard that Lord Tyrion had wanted to make an agreement about her and Sansa. She furrowed her brows before hurrying out the door.

Nysa was the first person she spotted, speaking with Jory. She hurried towards them, almost crashing into Nysa's form. Jory reached out to steady them both.

"What's going on, Arya," Nysa questioned.

"Baelish is here, meeting with Lord Tywin," she answered.

In a flash, Jory had to tackle his sister. She had reached for his dagger, drawing it out and holding it as if she were going to murder someone. He scrambled to get a good hold on her as she demanded that he let her go.

"He betrayed Lord Stark," Nysa hit her brother, "we cannot let him go! We can't!"

"We can and we will," Jory scolded his sister. "Did you not hear Arya? He is meeting with Lord Tywin! You go in there now, it will be your head on a spike, not Baelish's."

"There's a lot of us and only one of him!"

That may have been true, Jory thought. But they were nothing but guards and the two hundred she spoke of were in locked in cells. Surely, they would come to her aid if she killed Baelish but Lord Tywin would have the final say. Jory doubted that they'd allow Nysa to roam freely after that. Arya looked up around and nudged Jory lightly to show that others were starting to look at them. Jory nodded his head towards the crowd as he allowed a now quieter Nysa to stand up.

"What happens to be the trouble here," Ser Lucion appeared, grabbing Nysa's arm and pulling her towards him.

"It is nothing, Ser," Nysa answered as he placed a hand under her chin and lifted her face to examine it.

"Who did this?"

She shook her head.

"Who did this," he asked again with his eyes training hard on Jory.

"It was the Mountain," Arya answered as Ser Lucion turned to her. "Lord Tywin already reprimanded him."

"The Mountain," he repeated before looking down at Nysa, "why didn't you say anything?" Nysa only shook her head. "Come to my room tonight," he released her chin slowly and walked away.

"If he..."

"He hasn't," Nysa assured her brother who was glaring daggers at the knight's back.

Jory sighed heavily before gesturing for the two girls to follow him. Wyl and Cayn gestured for them to enter a small enclosed area where Gendry did his work. Hot Pie and Lommy were also there. Jory and the others did not mind their presence when they began to discuss what Lord Baelish was doing in Harrenhal.

"He is to seek an alliance between House Tyrell and the Lannisters," Arya answered.

"How," Wyl furrowed his brows, "by having Tyrion Lannister wed Margery Tyrell?"

Arya shrugged but then thought about what she heard. "No, Baelish said something about Margery wanting to become Queen."

"Sansa will become Queen," Jory responded, "she is the one who is betrothed to Joffrey."

"Unless that's why Baelish came here," Arya began, "he manipulated my father into thinking that he could be trusted. He is probably playing both sides."

"But what would he have to gain from the Tyrell and Lannister alliance," asked Nysa.

"Whatever he wants," Jory supplied before shaking his head, "House Tyrell is a wealthy House. Not to mention, word is that King Renly had one hundred thousand men marching with him. With Renly dead, they will have to fight for someone and if Baelish could convince them to fight for the Lannisters, then Lord Tywin would pay him handsomely."

"He also said that he met with my mother," Arya swallowed a breath before looking back at the keep.

"About what," half of them asked.

"About some sort of agreement regarding me and Sansa."

"You and Sansa," Jory repeated, "but they don't have you, unless someone has said something," he glanced at Nysa.

"Ser Lucion would not say anything and neither would Ser Daven, not when I saved his father's life."

"Unless they're lying," Gendry added as every head turned to him, "the Lannisters, that is."

"Aye, they could be," Hot Pie agreed as he tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth. "They wants you to think she's there," he spoke with his mouth full.

Jory snorted and shook his head. "I wouldn't put it past them to do that. And the fact that he," gesturing towards Hot Pie, "figured it out makes me feel like we've been losing our edge."

"Oi, I know a thing or two," Hot Pie argued as Nysa and Arya laughed lightly, "well I's do."

"So, Littlefinger lied to your mother also about you being in King's Landing," Wyl turned to Arya.

"Unless they know that Arya is here and is waiting for the right time," Jory concluded.

Arya shook her head. "Lord Tywin believes that my mother was a handmaiden to Lady Dustin," she said.

"Is that how you explained that you know how to read," Nysa asked her with a sly smile.

"Our father is ambitious and taught me to read and hoped that you would wed a knight and somehow elevate our status," Arya teased.

"That would explain why she is with the Lannister knight," Alyn muttered as Gendry, Wyl and Desmond bit back their laughter at her expense.

"There it is," Jory pointed to his sister. "Ser Lucion wants to see you tonight."

"Only to ask about my well-being," she responded.

"Well I want you to ask him about what he knows regarding Lord Tywin's battle strategy. What are they planning? Where are their military forces?"

"Robb has the Kingslayer," Arya supplied, "if you all didn't know by now. Every time that Robb marches to meet a Lannister army, he wins," she smiled. "I remember Lord Tywin mentioning that the day that we arrived."

"That's right," Nysa smiled also. "Lord Tywin said the Starks know Winter better than anyone else and with Winter fast approaching..."

"Robb will have the upper hand," Arya finished.

"Especially if he holds Lord Tywin's son," Alyn commented.

"They'd give Robb anything to get him back," replied Arya.

"Even you and Sansa," Gendry nodded to her.

"That could be it. Either way, find out more when you serve Lord Tywin his dinner and wine," Jory instructed Arya. He then turned to his sister, "And you need to speak more with Ser Lucion about what he knows."

* * *

"What are you wearing," Ser Lucion asked her.

Nysa looked down, embarrassment flooding her face. "The kitchen maids," she shook her head, "some of them heard that I was to visit you and thought that I'd look nice this evening."

She was wearing a dress and though the pale green didn't truly suit her, it was wonderful to see her in a dress again. The kitchen maids had arranged her short hair two small braids in them so they pulled back from her face. Not to mention the dress was tight on her form - accentuating certain womanly curves that barely showed themselves when she dressed in a tunic and breeches.

Ser Lucion reached out and lifted her face to look at him. "You know that is not why I summoned you here tonight," he said gently as she nodded and walked further into the room. He sighed and closed the door behind her before gesturing towards the table where he had a small tray of food and wine prepared for them. After sitting for a moment and drinking half his cup and eating some cheese he turned back to Nysa, his expression serious. "You must tell me if the Mountain strikes you again - or any man for that matter."

"I will," she added as he nodded.

"Good," he replied before leaning back in his chair. "Now I have some sad news for you." Her head snapped up as her hands dropped the piece of pork she was chewing on. Ser Lucion licked his lips in caution before turning away from her. "Word is that the Ironborn have taken Winterfell."

"No," she gasped.

"They started at Torrhen Square and are marching on to Deepwood Motte. Either that or they may take it by sea," he suggested.

"They'd have to get pass Bear Island and the Mormonts would not let them," she snarled.

Ser Lucion turned to her and put his cup down. "They say that the young Wolf allowed one of his bannerman to return with some men to dispatch of them and free the other Northern Houses."

"Who did he send?"

"I'm not sure. Our spies haven't said as much though," he poured himself more wine and lifted it to his mouth. "Also, a raven came today that Lord Stark's son has deserted the Wall."

"Jon," Nysa whispered and turned to a window, "what is he thinking?"

"As you know, Lord Tywin isn't concerning himself with a bastard from the North," Nysa turned back to him with anger blazing in her eyes, "forgive me, I did not mean to insult you or House Stark. All I'm suggesting is that a person deserting from his post is of little importance right now, other than this," he pulled a small parchment from inside his tunic and handed it to Nysa.

She took it greedily and opened it. "Stannis Baratheon is sailing to King's Landing," she shook her head and looked up at him before it dawned on her. "That means that Tywin is going to head to the Capital."

"At the same time, Robb Stark marches on Casterly Rock," Ser Lucion explained.

"He can't defend his home and the throne at the same time," she finished.

"Lord Tywin will meet tomorrow with the rest of the Lords to decide what is best. I wanted to know what you'd wish to do," he asked as she gave him a confused expression. "Are you going to come with me to secure your protection or do you want to stay here?"

Nysa looked down, uncertain as to what to do.

"I promised you that the others wouldn't see battle. If you want to stay with them than I understand. You don't need to make your decision tonight," he assured her, "as I said, Lord Tywin hasn't discussed things with the rest of his lords."

"I'm so close to home and yet," she sighed, "my home has been lost, taken away from me."

She shook her head and looked out at the window again.

"I've heard stories of what the Ironborn did during their last rebellion. I was still a little girl, barely six when it happened. Arya was just born," she smiled at the memory, "and then Lord Stark said that he was leaving, my brother was going with him. I cannot imagine what is happening now at Winterfell. What must Theon think? Gods, what must Robb be thinking?"

"That, I cannot tell you," he said quietly.

"I want to go home but what will I be going home to?"

"Riverrun is close to Harrenhal," Ser Lucion told her before finishing his cup. "If you wish to leave, I can take you all there."

"Is Lord Tywin going to take Arya with him?"

"I do not have the answer to that as well. If he is marching on to face the Stark boy, chances are that he won't. He will be ready for battle, not dining comfortably."

"I must see my brother," she went to stand but Ser Lucion stopped her.

"Finish," he instructed, "eat," he gestured to the food. "If you leave early, rumor will spread that I am a bad lover." Nysa released a sharp burst of laughter before covering her mouth causing Ser Lucion to smile at her.

They talked of less touchier subjects - like their favorite things to do during their free time. It was a carefree moment until Ser Lucion brought up his sister's marriage. She hadn't met her husband much and though it was a huge honor to wed into the Lannister family, the Lord didn't particularly enjoy being passed down to Lord Tywin's father's brother's granddaughter.

"Why is there always so much politics involved when wedding two people," asked Nysa as she sipped her wine.

"To strengthen Houses, reputations, wealth, lands," he added with a smile. "I'm sure that is what Lord Stark was hoping to do by introducing you to court at King's Landing." She eyed him heavily. "Or were you there simply to become his daughter's lady-in-waiting?"

"My mother is from the South," she finished as she grabbed a piece of cake - but to her extreme delight it was something else. She looked at him and he shrugged.

"A boy that Ser Amory picked up from the villages made it," he replied as Nysa remembered that it was most likely Hot Pie. "I suppose one could call it a raspberry tart."

"It's heavenly," she said as she finished the tart and licked her fingers.

"Where is your mother from," he asked, picking up their last conversation topic.

It was Nysa's turn to shrug. "No one will tell me. I hardly know why, other than that it would be dangerous for me to know," she answered uncertainly and shook her head. "But I was to come to King's Landing so that my Lord Uncle could approve of me, I suppose. I think he probably wanted to make me his heir to his House."

Ser Lucion nodded and thoughtfully looked away. "There are a lot of Houses that have no heirs or their sons are marching in the war," he thought, "if you are daughter to this Lord's sister, the only living blood that he has, there is a chance that he'd name you his heir."

"Even if I'm a bastard," she turned to him.

He smiled and nodded. "It be possible."

Nysa snorted.

"I'm assuming that there is an unpleasant experience regarding heirs and betrothals."

"What makes you say that," she asked him.

"Just the way you responded," he said.

Nysa sighed and turned to face him. "It is possible to care for two people?" She looked away and back at the table they sat at. "One of them treated me as though I were his equal. He wasn't afraid to be seen with me, holding my hand or dancing with me. He hardly ever brought up the fact that I was a bastard. He asked for my hand," she smiled, "and my brother had agreed only because he knew that this Lord's son truly cared about me and not my status."

"The second," Ser Lucion asked.

"The second one," she shook her head and scoffed. "He's always there, always has been there. I liked that he would ask me to help him with duties around the keep as though," she paused, "as though I were his lady, the lady of the House. I had never felt so content as when I was deciding things about how to manage a household, have the guards respect me. But he never mentioned a word to anyone," Nysa closed her eyes, "not even his father."

"I want to say that you should stick with the first one but it seems as though you have a story there for the second."

"He asked me to stay with him in Winterfell," her eyes caught his and he nodded in acknowledgement. She was speaking of the Stark boy. "I think he's embarrassed that he could desire a bastard girl like me."

"I don't understand why. You are not like most bastards."

"Do you know many bastards, Ser Lucion?"

Her forwardness and sass made him laugh. "I do, actually," he nodded before she turned away in shame. "My father has a bastard sister and there are others in my family who have such children. They live in Casterly Rock or Lannisport or at the Golden Tooth, comfortably of course. In fact, Lord Tywin arranges for marriages between them and other Houses where there are bastards."

"And the people don't object?"

"Why should they," he questioned with a smirk.

"Yes, why should they," she rolled her eyes, "especially when they are getting a Lannister." She shook her head as he chuckled. "I remember Lord Tyrion saying that he wouldn't be surprised if my mother was a Lannister."

"Lord Tyrion?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I met him in Winterfell, when King Robert came to ask Lord Stark to become his Hand." She laughed and reached to take another raspberry tart. "He said that with all the presents I receive on my name-day, he wouldn't be surprised if I came from a wealthy House like House Lannister."

"If that were the case then you can forget about your Northern Lords. I'd wed you myself."

Nysa looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "We would be kin."

"A lot of Lords or knights wed their cousins or distant relations," he said with a smile. "It keeps the name and the blood alive."

"Lord Tywin would allow that," she asked with a playful tone.

"If you were kin, yes," Lucion smiled back at her before noticing that he had drank a lot of wine and she had eaten a lot of the food on that was on the tray. If he didn't allow her to leave now, he'd end up talking her into his bed. "Thank you for your company, my lady."

She nodded and pushed back from her seat. Nysa took the few steps towards him before leaning down to press her lips against Ser Lucion's cheek. "Thank you," she paused and pulled back, "Lucion."

Nysa smiled once more when he reached up his hand to touch her cheek. He didn't repeat the action of kissing her face but he let his hand drop and allowed her to leave. She had just closed the door and sighed when she noticed a small figure running down the hall. She narrowed her eyes but shook her head at whatever was happening. Nysa had arrived at her room to see Jayne and Catelyn both staring in fear at the door upon her entrance.

"What's going on?"

"Ser Amory came here looking for Arya," Jayne replied.

"Lock the door behind me," Nysa said as she grabbed her bow and ran back outside. That small figure she saw must have been Arya.

Sure enough, she turned the corner as Arya came barreling into her.

"What is it? What have you done?"

"I took a couple ravens about Robb's plans and Tywin's plans but Ser Amory found me. I ran away but..."

"You!"

They both turned to see Ser Amory approaching.

"I have no time to be chasing little girls around. Now tell me, what is it that you took from Lord Tywin's room?"

"Nothing," Arya replied pressing back into Nysa.

Ser Amory reached down and grabbed whatever was being held in Arya's fist. He began to unfurl it and narrowed his eyes at the parchment. "What is this?"

"A letter to our brother about the armor," Arya quickly answered.

"Well, we'll just see about that now, wont' we?" Ser Amory left and began marching down the hall.

Arya turned to Nysa. "Lord Tywin knows I can read. He knows that we're from the North. He'll think something. And the fact that I just lied to Ser Amory..."

"I'll take care of it," Nysa replied and followed Ser Amory.

She hurried towards him only to see him turn down towards the room where Lord Tywin was. Even if she ran there, she wouldn't make it fast enough. And Nysa hadn't truly mapped out the entire castle to know the ins and outs of this place. Lord Tywin would have heard Ser Amory's story before Nysa even had a chance. She looked down and remembered that she had taken Torrhen's bow with her. Her head turned back to see the way back to her and Arya's room. She'd make it back just in time.

With determination, she notched an arrow and aimed it at Ser Amory's head just as he opened the door to speak to Lord Tywin.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"What were you thinking," Jory scolded his sister.

"He was going to speak to Lord Tywin! He was going to tell on Arya!"

Jory looked at Arya and then at the two other ladies who were in the room with them. He shook his head and started to pace.

"Your instructions were to find out Lord Tywin's plans," Arya retorted causing Jory to stop.

"Yes, but that did not involve stealing letters from his desk!"

There was a knock at the door, making everyone turn to look that way. Jory went to hide under the bed as Arya answered the door, a look of slight disgust marring her face when she saw that it was Ser Stafford.

"I am here for the healer," he said as Nysa appeared in the doorway.

"You have need of me, Ser?"

"Not me," he shook his head. "Lord Tywin has heard of your skills in helping with myself and others like the Frey prisoners." She nodded and looked down. "There's another fallen knight that seems to need your aid."

She couldn't believe the irony of it all when she was brought before Ser Amory's bedside. She had been the one to draw the arrow and kill him. Yet here they stood - those of House Lannister along with other Lords and knights from the Westerlands - requesting that she save Ser Amory's life. He was dead, she was certain of that. The arrow hit the back of his head. When she leaned down, she noticed that his eyes flitted back and forth. His chest still heaving slightly. A part of her felt terrified, should he truly wake and say that Arya had stolen letters from Lord Tywin's desk.

Nysa knelt at his side and hesitantly reached for a bowl of water and dipped a cloth inside. Once the cloth was damp enough, she moved to press it against his forehead and realized that he wasn't going to be living for long. She had hit a nerve that paralyzed his entire body and he would no longer be able to move any muscle after that. But how could she explain that without giving herself away as the shooter.

One by one the men left the room as she was left to tend to Ser Amory all alone. She did her best to clean the wound on the back of his head and bandage it. The least they could have done was that, she thought to herself. Before she knew it, Ser Amory started to convulse. She panicked and ran outside to see the Mountain standing there.

"I need help, Ser Amory..."

He pushed past her to see the other knight's body moving about erratically. "Come on," the Mountain barked at her as he tried to get Ser Amory to stay still but it was of no use.

Nysa was not sure what had happened. It could have been a nerve or blood vessel that had popped and leaked into the brain. She had heard of that once before but rarely had seen such things. She also thought that he could have been possessed. Old Nan had told them stories about such things.

"It's a ghost," she backed away only to have the Mountain grab her, pulling her back to Ser Amory's side.

"There's no such thing as ghosts!"

"Then the Gods are taking him," she shook her head, staring at the Mountain. "This isn't right! This isn't normal!"

Blood started to gargle forth from Ser Amory's mouth and before she knew it, the Mountain took out his sword and plunged it into the man's head. Nysa covered her mouth, restraining the strangled scream that threatened to leave and turned away from the sight. The Mountain took her arm and pulled her to Lord Tywin's room. She was thrust inside the room and started to sob uncontrollably.

"Clegane," Lord Tywin scolded as Nysa wiped her face, "what is the meaning of this?"

The Mountain put his sword away and shook his head. "Ser Amory's body was past being rehabilitated, my Lord. I simply did the inevitable."

"He's dead," Arya proclaimed as both Lord Tywin and the Mountain looked at her. Arya immediately looked down and away.

Lord Tywin walked up towards Nysa and snapped his fingers causing her to look up at him. "Didn't you ever see a man die before?"

Nysa shook her head, "not like that."

"Is that why you weep for him?"

"I," she paused and shook her head. "I've been able to save most men under my care," she whimpered before he handed her a small cloth and commanded her to wipe her face. "I've never lost anyone."

"There's no use in crying over one dead man you could not save, girl," Lord Tywin told her. He motioned to Arya. "Give your sister some wine, she needs a drink." Arya went towards Nysa who took the cup shakily.

"My Lord..."

"Go on," he said as he sat down. "If you mother truly served as a handmaiden to a noble Lady then she would have taught you not to refuse a Lord," Lord Tywin gestured for her to drink and Nysa did. "Let me tell you something, girl," he began as Nysa looked at him. "The art of healing is much like the art of battle. You saved Ser Stafford's life but failed to save Ser Amory's - the piece of shit made more mistakes than I could count. You lose some and you heal some. Like battles, you win some and you lose some. The difference depends on the one you save," he pointed to Ser Stafford, "not the one that was lost."

"Rhaenys Targaryen," she said as he titled his head at her.

"You know of what I speak," Lord Tywin asked.

"A septa told me of a writing she wrote to Aegon the Conqueror. The words you spoke came from that writing," she pointed out, "that winning the right battle, wins you the war."

Lord Tywin smiled. "Tell me something, girl, if Robb Stark wins a hundred battles," he began as Arya cast her a look, "does that mean he'll win the war?"

"No," she answered.

"And why is that?"

"He isn't any closer to the Iron Throne by fighting soldiers in the Riverlands."

He leaned back in his chair and looked at her before lifting his hand to point at her and talking to his other Lords. "That is why I feel these two girls would be better at planning my next battle strategy, than any of you!"

"As of now, Stannis marches on the capital," Ser Stafford began as he looked towards Nysa, "and the young wolf is closing in on Casterly Rock."

Things that Nysa had been told the night before by Ser Lucion. She glanced over at him and noticed that he was watching her.

"Our scouts said that Robb Stark is north of Ashemark," Ser Kevan Lannister cautioned.

"The last time our scouts reported on Stark's movements, we were lured into a trap," Lord Tywin argued, causing Nysa to look at him. He was already looking at her. "My son is his prisoner. Too close to Casterly Rock, that wolf is. Do you understand that?"

Nysa nodded and turned to see Ser Kevan stand.

"He sent a force to the North. The Greyjoys have done us a great favor," he added as Nysa and Arya locked eyes. Nysa subtly shook her head and Arya resumed her work.

"What have the Greyjoys done, my Lord," Nysa dared to question.

"They've captured Winterfell, it seems," Lord Tywin answered as Arya came close to dropping her pitcher of water. "Balon Greyjoy has proclaimed himself King, King of the Iron Islands," Tywin snorted before requesting for water. "And he has decided to strike Robb Stark's home."

"Then what Ser Kevan says is true, my Lord," Nysa repeated. "The Greyjoys have done you a great favor." He eyed her heavily. "Especially if Robb Stark sent some men to the North to retake Winterfell."

"Stark isn't at full force," Ser Kevan said calling his brother's attention away from her. "He won't risk going to Casterly Rock."

"He's a boy and he hasn't lost a battle. He'll risk anything at any time," Tywin shouted, causing Nysa to lift her head higher, "he's not afraid of anything. You and your sister are smart, indeed. She reminds me of my daughter and you remind me of my sister. If you were a man, where would you go?"

"To King's Landing," Nysa answered. "The Iron Throne is a great prize."

Lord Tywin looked back at the table where his Lords and other war council were sitting. "We ride out at nightfall. I want a full night's march before he knows we're on the move."

Arya looked at Nysa, angry and nervous.

"Clegane," Tywin turned to him, "maintain a garrison here at Harrenhal. Find out who assassinated Ser Amory and destroy any sign of rebellion here." He looked at Nysa and then at Arya. "The girl will stay here with you, along with her sister," he glanced at Ser Lucion who nodded.

He dismissed both Nysa and Arya - Nysa to do as she pleased and Arya to fetch him something to eat before he rode away.

"What do you think you're doing, informing him about going to meet Robb," Arya pulled on Nysa's arm.

"Lord Tywin isn't going to meet Robb because we're going to get a raven out to him, that Tywin is retreating from Harrenhal. He'll be able to take this place and you'll be reunited with your brother and mother," Nysa replied before Ser Lucion walked to meet them at the end of the hall. Arya ran off and left Nysa standing there with the knight.

She had never felt nervous to stand with him before.

"I know that we didn't get a chance to discuss things but..."

"You're leaving me here," Nysa smiled at Lucion before he took her hand and pulled her away from the others.

"Tywin is leaving the Mountain in charge of Harrenhal," Lucion said as he shielded her with his body.

"I know," she nodded.

"I can't protect you if he..."

"My brother is here and the others," she said.

"It doesn't mean that I enjoy the idea of you being here with him."

"Thank you for everything," Nysa leaned up and pressed her lips to Lucion's cheek.

When she pulled back, he smiled at her, cupped her face in his hand and leaned down to kiss her lips gently. He didn't say it, probably never needed to. But it was there - a promise he would have made, a promise he wanted to make, a promise he couldn't fulfill. This knight felt for her the same as Torrhen did.

"If only," he mumbled and released a frustrated sigh.

"I saved your life in King's Landing," she moved her head to look up at him. "You are grateful for that. That's all that this is."

He shook his head as if to doubt her, but didn't comment any further. "I pray you return to your beloved," he whispered before stepping back and leaving her.

Nysa put a hand over her heart. She felt wanton. She had kissed three - no, four - different men. Perhaps she was a whore. She couldn't imagine the betrayal on Torrhen's face if he ever found out that she had shared a kiss with a Lannister knight. He may not want to wed her after that. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought and hurried to find her brother.

She rushed down to the yard to see that there were some men who were being tortured and questioned about Ser Amory's death. She shuddered as she past the bodies and found Arya speaking to Jory and the others.

"Lord Tywin leaves tonight," Jory repeated as he saw Nysa come into their circle.

"He's leaving the Mountain in charge. There will be at least five hundred men here with him," Arya said, "since Tywin is taking majority of them out to meet Robb."

"It gets Tywin out of Harrenhal," Nysa countered. "And besides there's two hundred northmen in the cells as we speak. They'd fight for Arya."

"Wait, so what exactly are we doing here," asked Alyn.

Arya smiled and looked back at Nysa. "We're going to take Harrenhal for Robb."

* * *

Nysa stabbed the guard in the back, at the exact point she remembered hitting Ser Amory with her arrow. The guard didn't move, neither did he make a sound. She would have to remember that there was a nerve back there that could render her victim, motionless. She listed as two guards approached from the other end of the cells. Slowly she drew out her brother's dagger. Gendry was right next to her with a few swords that he had made since they had arrived here at Harrenhal. She notched an arrow and lifted it up as Gendry tightened his grip on his hammer.

"Divan," one of the guards started walking towards them, calling out to the guard Nysa had just stabbed. "You're being relieved of duty! Go find a kitchen maid to enjoy," the guard laughed as Nysa told Gendry to get ready. He nodded and just as she kicked the guard in front of them down, she released her first arrow hitting the first guard approaching them.

The second guard's eyes widened and he turned to run but Nysa had gotten another arrow prepared and let it fly. When he hit the floor, Gendry hurried and went to unlock the first cell with a few prisoners inside. He tossed one of the men in there a sword. And where the others started to complain, Nysa turned around and reminded them that those swords were for their Lords first.

"Lady Nysa," a voice called out from a closed cell and she motioned for Gendry to come over.

"Ser Hosteen," she nodded to him as he exited and took a sword from Gendry.

"What's going on?"

"Lord Tywin has left the castle to go to Casterly Rock. There's five hundred men still here under the Mountain's charge," she explained as Gendry unlocked the cells for Ser Hosteen's brothers. She saw him give a sword to Ser Stevron Frey but she took it away immediately. "I can't have you fight again."

"I feel as though I can cut down a hundred men," he sounded determined as she shook her head.

"There's five hundred..."

"And more than two hundred of us," Ser Danwell reminded her, gripping his sword. "We can take the castle."

"If you're sure," she looked at Ser Stevron.

"I'm sure," he answered.

"Good," she nodded and led them out on their cells, down the halls and towards the exit.

They had just gotten there when she saw one of the Mountain's men waiting by the door. He smirked and withdrew his sword but didn't get far when Nysa lifted her bow and shot him. They hurried out and just as Nysa got there, another one of his men approached. She pulled the arrow out of the man she shot and went to notch it again only to get a strike against her face. Several other men entered their area and began to fight with the Frey guards.

The man who hit her, pulled her up by her hair. She struggled against his hold. He had pushed her up against the bars. Remembering that she had her brother's dagger, she pulled it out and drove it into the man's neck, thrusting it in again and again until he dropped her. When he fell as well, she drove the dagger into his head this time for extra measure before being picked up by Ser Danwell and Gendry. Neither of them appeared to have a scratch on them.

"Let's keep moving," Gendry told her and they exited.

* * *

Jory and Wyl began leading the northmen out from their cells. Nysa and Gendry were to take a separate part of the castle where she claimed some from House Frey were being held. Alyn and Cayn along with Desmond were taking the last part. And whoever made it out first was to take the keep. And since Jory and Wyl had made it out first, they had hurried with their force of eighty men to face the Lannister soldiers.

It had been a while since Jory had fought but he was glad to see that he and Wyl were holding their own. Harrion Karstark was among the first men that Jory had released and he was cutting down men quickly that Jory couldn't even keep count. At this rate, they'd overwhelm the Lannister forces inside and win. Arya, Jayne, Lyman, Hot Pie and Lommy - who all insisted that they help - had been the ones to seal the gates. They would make sure that no one would escape to warn Lord Tywin or any other Lannister forces nearby.

Alyn and Cayn came out then with Lord Glover and some other men in tow, overtaking the armory and stables quicker than he thought possible. Slowly their forces had taken every part of the castle. And when he turned towards the yard, he noticed that there was still one person very much against them.

The sword slashed through the air, cutting down three men at once and Jory's blood chilled as he saw the Mountain pound his chest and shout triumphantly.

Jory made his way there only to see the Mountain pierce Poll - a fellow guard for House Stark. Now they were down to five guards who had left Winterfell. He watched in horror as Ser Gregor Clegane lifted the man's body with his sword and threw him across the yard, screaming a war cry before beginning to wave his sword at the many others who went up against him.

Jory went after the Mountain this time.

Their swords clashed and echoed in the yard as the men shouted in agreement whenever Jory got a good hit on the Mountain.

He thought about his sister being slapped by this huge monster of a man.

He remembered the screams of young girls at night.

He saw the relief on the two ladies' faces when his sister saved them from the Mountain's men.

Ser Gregor Clegane had killed one man during the tourney for Lord Stark, came close to killing another and had injured him so badly that that night he could barely dance with his sister at the feast. Whether it was by accident or not - he knew that the Mountain showed no remorse whatsoever. He saw what happened with Ser Loras Tyrell. He saw the madness that he had brought upon the Riverlands and the people here.

Lord Stark had stripped him of his titles, he was to be punished. And Jory was going to see that it was done.

As much as Jory had desperately attempted to keep up in this fight - the Mountain was stronger. He overpowered Jory, making him lose his focus. Jory tried again and again to block or evade the Mountain's strikes but it was useless.

The Mountain - seeing his opportunity once he disarmed Jory - slashed his sword at the guard, causing him to groan in agony. He laughed darkly and continued to thrust his sword forward - Jory doing his best to get away.

One blow pierced Jory on the side, causing him to fall to the ground.

He felt like he had failed Lord Stark and attempted once more to get up until he felt a force kick his side. It was so powerful that it took the very breath away from him.

Nysa saw her brother on the ground and the laughing taunts of the Mountain. She had only three arrows left and shot them - one after the other at the Mountain.

The first arrow hit his shoulder, the second hit his neck and the third hit his leg. He cursed with every arrow that sunk into his flesh. To her surprise, he would either pull out the arrow or break it off and continue fighting. He had just held his sword up, ready to strike at her brother when Nysa ran full speed towards him. She jumped onto his back and took out her brother's dagger.

Nysa stabbed his head with the dagger twice before he pulled her off from him and flew her across the yard. Her back hit a wagon at such force, causing the wagon to break and Nysa to scream in agony. She tried to push herself up but the Mountain grabbed her by her hair and began to beat her head into the ground. She noticed the dagger still lodged in his head and reached for it. She had just pulled it out when he slammed her back in the dirt, causing her to blink rapidly at how blurry things were becoming.

She lunged forward, not knowing where she was aiming and landed the dagger in the Mountain's thigh. She continued to do it, running between his legs and dodging his attempts to grab her as she stabbed him wherever there was no armor. It wasn't until he fell to his knees that she climbed onto him again and proceeded to stab his neck.

He growled, grunted and cursed at her, trying to reach for her. She had screamed when his fist yanked on her hair but that did not stop her from stabbing his neck. She went to the other side where the arrow had been and continued to stab him there.

He fell forward and Nysa climbed on top of him, lifting her dagger in the air before plunging it into his forehead. She stabbed him - allowing her anger, frustration and desperation to overtake her. Three pairs of arms pulled her off and she kicked and screamed at them to let her go, leave her alone.

"Stop it! He's dead already!"

Nysa yanked her arm free to see Harrion, Danwell and Stevron by her side. She turned to the Mountain to see that he was nothing but a bloodied form lying in the dirt. She shook her head and reached for Harrion who pulled her into his arms and let her cry.

Jory held out his arm for his sister and Ser Donnel and Wyl helped him to stand. He couldn't be on his feet for long but all that mattered was that he saw that his sister was okay. She reached slowly for his hand before dropping it and closing her eyes, she turned into Harrion.

"She's badly beaten," Harrion told Jory, "but she'll live. She's from the North," he smiled before chuckling.

"Aye," Jory smiled and Wyl patted him on the back.

"We did it," Wyl said.

"Aye lad, we did," Lord Glover came over towards them. He saw Arya in the distance and gestured for her to walk over. "For Princess Arya Stark! For the North! For Lord Eddard!"

Arya was hoisted up on top of a shoulder of two guards - one belonging to House Manderly and the other to Lord Cerwyn as they shouted for her, for the North, for her father, for Robb. She smiled and looked around before her eyes settled on Nysa who had awoke to smile at Arya.

* * *

"You are back," Lady Catelyn went to greet her son but Robb looked away.

"How many men did we have sent after the Kingslayer," Robb questioned.

"Forty, your Grace," Smalljon answered.

"Robb," his mother shook her head.

"Send forty more," he told Smalljon before turning to her. "Inside," Robb ordered.

Lady Catelyn walked in. As she saw a few of the other Lords - Lord Karstark, Lord Umber and a few other men - walk in, she turned to sit down at her chair. There was a moment of silence that helped to breathe life to the tension and anger brewing inside of Robb. His mother sat there looking as though she had committed no wrong. Her eyes looking straight at his, daring him to make a move.

"Why," he asked.

"For the girls," his mother answered.

"You betrayed me!"

"No," she shook her head.

"You knew I would not allow it and you did it anyway," Robb accused.

His mother sighed before turning towards him with a determined look. "Bran and Rickon are captives in Winterfell. Sansa and Arya are captives in King's Landing. I have five children and only one of them is free."

"I lost one son fighting by your son's side," Lord Rickard stated. "And I lost Torrhen," he stepped forward, "strangled by the Kingslayer with a chain. He was to wed Lady Nysa!"

"Lord Karstark," his mother began but was caught off.

"He was the one who encouraged me to ride with your son to the South. He came for her and now he is lost!"

"I..."

"Can you imagine what she will think when she learns of this," Lord Rickard questioned. "You speak about only one child being free," he spat on the ground. "Eddard died two days ago, fighting to protect your son. Torrhen died while guarding the Kingslayer. And Harrion," he snorted, "I do not know where my firstborn and heir is. He left with Lord Bolton and did not return! At least you know where your children are! I would cut out my heart and offer it to the Father if he'd let my sons wake from their graves and step into a prison cell."

"I grieve for your sons, my Lord," she looked at him.

"I do not want your grief. I want my vengeance. You stole it from me!"

"Killing Jamie Lannister would not buy life for your children," she shook her head then turned to Robb. "But returning him to King's Landing may buy life for mine."

Robb stared at his mother. "Jamie Lannister has played you for a fool. He weakened our position. He brought discord into our camp," he told her. "And he did that all behind my back."

He shook his head.

"Make sure she's guarded day and night," he commanded Smalljon.

"Robb," she went to stand but he turned away from her.

"Your Grace," Lady Dacey came running towards him then. "This just arrived," she held out the letter.

"Where did it come from," Robb asked as he took it.

Dacey smiled and looked around the camp. "You wouldn't believe it," she said as a few of the Lords and guards around them stopped. "I could barely believe the words myself!"

"What is it," Ser Perwyn questioned.

"It's a raven from Harrenhal," she nodded to it as Robb opened it quickly.

He scanned the words quickly. An immediate feeling of joy overwhelmed him and he almost turned around to inform his mother. Robb spared his Lords a look and then nodded to Smalljon. "Tell my mother that Arya is in Harrenhal. We ride there in the morning."

* * *

Robb kicked his horse to the front of the riding party, his guards - or what was left of them - quickly matching his stride. He had five personal guards now and though a few of his Lords were urging him to choose two to replace the fallen Karstark brothers, Robb felt it was too soon. He looked back at the Karstark soldiers who had drifted towards the middle of the envoy. They were grieving. One of their Lord's sons murdered by the Kingslayer, another who took an arrow for Robb at the Ashemark and the heir to Karhold - Robb shook his head - could have been lost as well.

No, he would wait until another time to choose two more personal guards. He knew that Lord Karstark wouldn't be able to fathom the thought of seeing his sons quickly replaced so easily and dismissively.

"We should discuss how we are to set siege to Harrenhal, your Grace," Lord Bolton met Robb.

Ser Perwyn narrowed his eyes along with Smalljon. "The Princess Arya is in that castle," Ser Perwyn nodded towards it, "surely there's no need to..."

"And so we should ride in, unprepared," Lord Bolton looked back at him with disdain before leaning closer to the King. "The Mountain was rumored to be left in charge of this place. He will defend this castle, defend whatever Tywin Lannister tells him to."

"Your Grace, if I may," Lady Dacey began, "your sister's letter stated that she is safe."

"The Lannisters would have you believing anything they want you to," Lord Bolton argued. "The last time they discussed things with you, both Arya and Sansa were at the Capital. Now which one sounds more reasonable?"

"The one that says the Queen holds both of my sisters," Robb replied as Lord Bolton smiled at Lady Dacey before turning to Ser Perwyn with a dismissive look. "However, that Queen has been known to lie before."

"Aye," Patrek Mallister replied with a grin, "she has."

"There is our welcoming party," Robb nodded towards the small group of horsemen leaving the gates of Harrenhal.

"Stark banners," Smalljon noted.

And in that moment, Robb allowed himself to believe that his sister was truly behind those ruined walls. He urged his horse forward, his guards following him closely. It wasn't until he spotted a familiar face among the group that he hurried to them.

The guard rode quicker upon seeing his Lord, his King. He stopped a distance away, arguing on whether he should dismount and kneel on the ground. Robb noticed the hesitation and nodded to Wyl.

"Wyl," Robb chuckled, "you are a welcomed sight for these eyes."

"My Lord, pardon me," Wyl smiled and bowed his head, "my King."

"I'm still getting used to it," Robb said before the others joined them. "How did the castle come to be under your command?"

Wyl chuckled this time. "It is in the name of Princess Arya that the men have dedicated our victory to. She is in command of the castle."

"Just like a true northerner," Lady Dacey smiled.

"Princess Arya," Robb smirked.

"She is rather fond of the title," Wyl remarked. "To her, it holds more power behind it."

Robb shook his head. "Allowing her to do things that she wants, I assume." Robb looked past him to see a few of his Lords and other bannermen who were waiting just outside the walls of Harrenhal. "I can hardly believe it," he murmured as Wyl looked over his shoulder also. "My sister is there. The rest of the northmen are there," he smiled.

"Let me take you to them, my King," Wyl said as he turned his horse around.

* * *

Wyl, Lord Glover, Ser Donnel and a few other guards had rode out to meet the men that were approaching. The men who were coming held the Stark banners with them. But Jory had decided that before he opened the gates to them that he send out a party to meet them halfway. Anybody could have gotten that raven, he argued with Nysa. Just because it was sent out did not mean that Robb would have gotten it.

Lord Glover gave some sort of signal and Jory turned back from over the gate to look at his sister. Both her and Arya looked up past them to see the Stark banner fall from a window. Arya smiled at the sight of it. Now there were Stark banners that hung on the walls of Harrenhal. She took Nysa's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"For the North and for my father," she dropped Nysa's hand and looked out to the coming crowd.

Nysa turned back around to see the army in the distance beginning to grow and a small smile broke out on her face at the sight of Karstark bannermen among the riders. She smoothed over her dress, hoping that she would look well enough to receive Torrhen. She had so much to tell him, so much to discuss with Lord Rickard Karstark. What if Robb didn't receive her last letter about his father's intentions of giving her Greenhall? What if he did, but forbade it? She shook her head at the thought. Robb would never do that.

A slight groan of annoyance escaped the mouth of Arya, causing Nysa to turn towards her. She was fidgeting with her dress the same as Nysa. Nysa smiled a bit because she understood why. There weren't much proper gowns for a Princess here - the kitchen maids and the other small folk had told her. But Lady Shella Whent had found an old dress belonging to her daughter and had placed Arya inside of it, stating that they were kin after all. The dress was a nice shade of grey but the detail on the bodice was intricate and pretty.

"Your gown is simpler," Arya frowned.

"I am not a Princess of the North and the Trident," Nysa teased.

"I think this is the only part of the entire Princess ordeal that I could live without."

"Your mother would be happy to see you in it, don't you think," Nysa pressed.

Arya looked down, "I suppose."

Gendry chuckled behind them.

"Do shut up," Arya called over her shoulder.

"Arry looks like a girl," Nysa heard Lommy whisper.

She had to close her eyes because she knew that Arya was about to snap at them. Arya was just about to also but Cayn took a step forward, stopping in the front of her. Behind them were the members of House Frey. Ser Wylis stood at the bottom of the steps along with a few other knights in service to House Manderly. A few guards from House Hornwood stood to the side and Nysa felt a stab of pain at the inability to save Lord Hornwood.

Jory called for the gates to open as the party drew closer. Lord Glover was riding alongside his brother - united once again.

After five riders, it was the next one who made Nysa's breath catch.

Robb rode in with his small group of guards surrounding him. Several of the Lords and their men he noticed bowed their heads to him. He nodded to many of them - pleased to see that they were alive and well. Smalljon pointed out the Stark banners hanging on the walls and it made Robb's heart beat wildly. Of all the mad things that his sister could have done, he'd never imagined that she'd take a castle right from under Tywin Lannister's mad-dog, Ser Gregor Clegane.

His eyes searched for Arya then only to land on another young woman.

Nysa noticed that Robb had grown some and looked every bit as a fighter as the stories she had heard. They were calling him the 'young wolf' and Nysa could see why. She chastised herself for allowing her heart to thump in her chest - she couldn't help it especially when presented with such a sight before her. True, she had met many knights in King's Landing but they were nothing compared to those in the North.

Robb's mouth went dry at the sight of Nysa. But behind her, stood knights and men belonging to House Frey - a House that he had made a promise to. Therefore, he was reminded that he could no longer entertain thoughts of the young woman he had been so captivated with. He smiled slightly at Nysa - that was all that was allowed - before his eyes rested on the figure next to her.

Arya stood there, still as a statue. She had been desperate to see her family. It had been months since she had seen Sansa, months since her father had been executed, over a year since she had seen Robb and her mother, Jon and the rest of her brothers. Could this truly be happening? Arya saw her brother and disbelief hit her - was he really here?

He dismounted in front of them, looking towards Nysa once more before settling his gaze on his sister. Ser Wylis and some others bowed their heads to him but he paid them no mind. His eyes focused on the young girl that was his sister. The dress was too feminine for her. But he could see it in her eyes that she didn't care what she was wearing to welcome him - only that she welcomed him.

"Arya," he smiled softly.

In a flash of light, Arya ran towards her brother.

Robb caught her - uncaring if his Lords and men were looking at them. This is what he had been fighting for, this is what they had been fighting for - the return of his sisters, the daughters of their liege Lord. For that one small moment all the problems in his life didn't exist. She was still the small creature he remembered her to be. But she had grown not just physically but emotionally as well. She had survived, somehow she had. Out of all of his siblings there was no doubt that she would.

"Gods be good, Arya," he laughed as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Robb, tell me you're real! Tell me that you're here and we're going home!"

He began to laugh before squeezing his sister tighter. "It's me, Arya."

And that did it for Arya.

"I hate it here, Robb! I hate it," she broke down in tears. It reminded Nysa that despite how strong and brave Arya was, she was still a young girl. She had seen her father executed. Her sister was left behind in King's Landing. A few heads turned away from the scene - allowing the Stark siblings their moment of weakness, grief and joy to overcome them. "I want to go home," Arya squeezed her brother.

"I know," Robb told her, keeping his younger sister close.

"They murdered father, Robb! They murdered him!"

"I know," he repeated and Nysa saw the wetness behind his eyes.

This time she turned away from the scene as well. Her eyes looked for Lady Stark but she did not see her and neither did she see her Uncle. Dacey dismounted not long after the King and bowed her head to Nysa before embracing her.

"It is wonderful to see you all," Nysa let out a deep breath before being released.

"We are all pleased to see you," Dacey said before nodding towards Arya who was still locked in her brother's arms, "and the young Stark Princess as well."

Nysa opened her mouth to respond but a gasp fell from it instead. Lyra Mormont had came charging in, embracing her friend before pushing her back. "Got us all scared there for a moment, Snow," Lyra teased Nysa as they sported smiles at their reunion. "And Gods," she proclaimed examining her friend, "what happened to you?"

"Oh you know," Nysa shrugged non-chalantly, "couldn't let you take down all the soldiers in Westerors."

Lyra and Dacey laughed. "How did you do it," Lyra grabbed her friends hand, eager to hear the tale. "I mean Harrenhall," she looked around. "You and Arya took Harrenhall!"

"We did not do it by yourself," Nysa looked around as well.

She saw that behind her the members of House Frey had stepped forward to welcome the rest of their kin who were travelling with the King. Nysa noticed a familiar face among them and smiled when Ser Perwyn's eyes landed on her. He smirked before she saw his eyes flit towards Lady Dacey who abruptly turned around and walked away.

"He and Dacey were caught in a most compromising position a couple weeks after the Freys had joined our camp," Lyra mentioned with a teasing smile. "She wasn't dishonored, mind you. I doubt she would have let him but," she shook her head, "Dacey was charmed and she doesn't want to admit it."

"I'm surprised he still lives if that were the case," Nysa smiled, watching Ser Perwyn speak with the other guards who were in the cells.

"Oh believe me, they spar all the time," Lyra replied as they walked further towards the crowd. "He is an enticing man - according to her. But she'll make him work for it."

"Lady Nysa," Smalljon called out and lifted her into his arms.

"Smalljon," she laughed before he settled her back down on her feet. "It's good to see you!"

"You have no idea how much that raven meant to our camp when we received it," he chuckled. "We were in the middle of a dire situation when it had arrived."

"Dire situation," she asked as Lyra threw a punch at Smalljon's shoulder. "What is it?"

"Lady Nysa!"

Nysa didn't get an answer from Lyra or Smalljon. She had turned away from them and her smile widened at seeing the group of men approaching.

"Waylyn," Nysa shouted as she recognized one of Karhold's guards.

"Lady Nysa," he smiled at her.

She ran towards his horse. "I am so glad to see you. Harrion," she called over her shoulder as he came rushing to her side. "Harrion is here." A lot of them looked relieved at that news before their expressions changed back into something somber. "I am so pleased to see all of you again," she looked around and nodded at them as they dismounted from their horse. "Where is Torrhen," she smiled and looked about the men.

She was met with silence before she turned back towards Robb and Arya.

"I have not seen Lady Catelyn either."

"She should be coming in soon," Waylyn replied.

Nysa's head whipped towards him then, shocked as to why Robb was keeping his mother separate from him. "I hope to speak with her soon. Is Torr, perhaps with Lady Catelyn? Is he part of her personal guard?"

"Lady Nysa," Waylyn took a step towards her. "Torrhen is not here."

"I don't understand," she shook her head slightly before another horse made it's presence known.

It was Lord Karstark. He dismounted gruffly, before reaching for Harrion. They shared a quick embrace before Lord Karstark pushed him back to look at him. "Gods, I thought I lost all of you."

Harrion wore a look of confusion. "What do you mean, all of us?"

Lord Karstark was about to answer before his eyes settled on Nysa. She reached for her skirts and curtsied for him. "Lord Karstark," she offered him a small smile.

"Nysa," he nodded sharply before turning away from her. He released Harrion and looked towards the guards. "Has anyone told her, yet?" A few of them shook their heads and Nysa wondered what he was referring to. "Nysa, perhaps I should speak to you privately."

"Of course, my Lord," she looked at Harrion but nodded to Lord Karstark. "But first may I inquire as to where Torrhen is? I have not heard from him in some time and I wanted to discuss..."

"What I need to speak to you about is regarding my son," Lord Karstark replied.

"Well," Nysa looked around again, "where is Torrhen? Did he go back to relieve Winterfell?"

"My lady," Lord Karstark began, "he is not here."

Harrion cleared his throat next to her and looked down. Nysa looked at the men again to see their faces drop. "Well, has he been captured?"

No one responded.

"Has he been taken to another castle? Locked in their prison cells," she asked.

Again, no one replied to her question.

"My lady, let us go and speak about this privately," Lord Karstark held out his arm for her but she narrowed her eyes.

"Where is Torrhen," she questioned again.

Lord Karstark gestured for a guard to come forth. Nysa's head turned to see Torrhen's horse, Bull, trotting forward. The saddle was empty. She shook her head and turned back to Lord Karstark as he patted the horse. Harrion placed a hand on his father's shoulder before turning to Nysa with sad eyes. His brother was not coming for Nysa as they expected - his brother would not be coming at all.

"My son was guarding a prisoner when he lost his life," Lord Rickard started to explain.

"No," she shook her head and turned back to his father. "Tell me he's locked up somewhere," she begged. "Tell me that he rode back to the North to help with the Ironborn," she pleaded.

"I am sorry I cannot."

"Please, my Lord," she whimpered, "tell me he's alive!"

"He brought this with him," Lord Karstark gestured to the side of Bull. There was Nysa's sword - a name-day present she received from her Lord Uncle many years ago.

"No," she shook her head again and took a step back, the tears falling from her eyes.

"He wanted to return it to you."

"Then he can give it to me when I see him again," she wiped her face furiously. "Because he's in the North somewhere or he's locked up..."

"Nysa," Harrion began.

"No," she shouted at him. "He's not dead! He can't be!"

"Torrhen made a few changes to the blade, a small inscription of our sigil," Lord Karstark ran his fingers over it before putting the sword back in and handing it to Nysa.

"I will only accept it when he hands it to me himself!"

"He won't be, Nysa," Harrion said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Nysa shrugged him off before stepping further away. "Yes he will!"

"Nysa?"

She turned to see Jory looking at her with concern. He scanned the crowd and noticed too that there was a missing Karstark. He saw her distress from the top of the gate and hurried down to see what was happening. And now he realized what exactly it was - Torrhen Karstark was not alive.

"They're saying he's not here but I don't believe them," Nysa's tears ran down her cheeks and it broke Jory's heart.

He knew exactly who the 'he' was that his sister was referring to.

"I'm so sorry, Nysa."

"No, no, no," she repeated as she shook her head.

Jory hurried towards her, wrapping his sister in his arms before she collapsed on the ground from her grief. She beat his chest and continued to protest Torrhen's death. No matter what she said or did, he held onto her, letting her draw strength from him. He rubbed her back as she calmed down and looked towards Lord Karstark who was explaining the story to Harrion. She was so close to being betrothed, so close to being with Torrhen. And now he was taken from her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"How could you," Nysa shouted, throwing the doors open and drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

The Lords turned silent and when she saw the eyes of Robb, Smalljon, Lyra and the many others who had come - she knew that they understood her anger. Lord Karstark had told her everything. Torrhen had been guarding Ser Jamie. Though no one knows what prompted Torrhen to enter the make-shift cell, Torrhen did and was strangled to death by Ser Jamie. He escaped, killing a couple other guards. And upon being captured again, somehow had persuaded Lady Catelyn to release him. Nysa wanted to know who had killed Torrhen. And Lord Karstark was all too happy to inform her of what happened. Nysa turned to see Arya narrow her eyes at her.

"Your mother released the Kingslayer!"

Arya turned sharply towards her mother. "He attacked father! Why would you..."

"Arya, I wanted to get you and Sansa back," Lady Catelyn pleaded.

"So you released him," Nysa questioned.

Lady Catelyn turned to her as her eyes watered. "You don't understand, Nysa."

"Oh but I do," she stalked forward. "He pushed Bran out of the tower! Queen Cersei admitted that to your husband," she stated. "He attacked Lord Stark! He ordered the Lannister guards to kill Stark guards, to kill my brother, to kill me," she shouted. "Did you know that he did those things?"

"Ser Jamie admitted to pushing Bran when he was our prisoner," Lady Catelyn replied.

"Then, how could you do it," Arya asked. "How could you do it after everything that he did?"

Lady Catelyn shook her head. "I wanted you and Sansa back."

"And what made you think that I was even there," Arya questioned.

"Lord Tyrion sent your father's body back to me," Lady Catelyn told her. "Petyr came with it and told me that both my girls were at King's Landing. That if I did this..."

"Petyr," Nysa narrowed her eyes, "as in Petyr Baelish? He betrayed Lord Stark, betrayed your husband," Nysa protested.

"No," Lady Catelyn shook her head.

"He stood there with a smile on his face," Nysa continued forward, "as King Joffrey ordered for your husband to be executed. He did nothing to stop it!" Lady Catelyn continued to shake her head. "He just stood there and let it happen!"

"Petyr has been my friend, a brother to me since I..."

"Well, your childhood friend was no friend at all! He lied about Tyrion Lannister being the one who hired the assassination on Bran." Lady Stark's eyes widened at that. "Oh yes, I had a talk with Lord Stark and he told me that Littlefinger made you believe that it was Tyrion Lannister."

"He was my friend. I had no need to doubt him!"

"Did you even think to ask questions?"

"Why would she question him," Robb stood up this time and turned to her. "He was her friend - their only ally in King's Landing. He kept my mother safe when she went there to warn my father. He gave her no other reason to suspect that he'd lie to her like that."

"You're letting your mind cloud your judgement. Lord Tyrion was not even there when Bran fell," Nysa countered. "He had joined the hunt!"

"Perhaps you're letting your mind cloud you judgment," Robb shouted back at her. "My mother doesn't need to defend herself to you!"

"And you agree with her release of the Kingslayer," she questioned as Robb took a step back. He glanced at Lord Umber and Lord Stevron Frey who were the only ones in the room. They knew, especially Lord Umber, that Robb was not particularly joyful about the Kingslayer's release.

Before either of them could comment on Robb's silence, Arya stood up slowly. "Littlefinger was here," Arya added as both Nysa and Robb turned towards them. "He spoke with Lord Tywin about an alliance with House Tyrell."

"What does that have to do with right now," Robb asked impatiently.

"He mentioned that he was already there to seek peace with Renly," Nysa sighed, wondering too where Arya was going with this.

"And that he had gone there under Lord Tyrion's bidding," Arya finished as realization hit Nysa. "Lord Tyrion made a promise with mother, a sign of good faith that he'd return Father's bones to her, after his release."

Nysa looked away as Robb continued to stare at Arya. "So, not only has she allowed one Lannister to slip past her, she's allowed two."

"I did it the first time and Lord Tyrion allowed your Father's bones to come back to me, to Winterfell," Lady Catelyn stood up, shakily but certain this time. "Littlefinger made me believe not just in his friendship but also in the Lannister's words that if I returned Ser Jamie to King's Landing, then I would get the girls back."

Robb shook his head. "You made pacts behind my back."

"I did it for my daughters."

"But Arya has not been in King's Landing for months, mother!"

"How was I to know? Sansa's letter did not speak of her and..."

"Because you went against my word," Robb insisted. "Right now Stannis Baratheon marches on the Capital. That means that the Tyrells would fight against Stannis. They would not care that they are siding with the Lannisters, as long as they get rid of Stannis. Petyr Baelish was sent by Lord Tywin to manipulate them. And I'm sure that he was there to do the same with you."

"Robb," Lady Catelyn shook her head.

"No!"

"No one may agree with what I did. But I did what I had to do in order to protect my children. I am their Mother," Lady Stark shouted, turning to Nysa with tears upon her face. "You would do anything for your children, Nysa. When you have a child of your own, you will understand." She sobbed and looked away from her.

"Torrhen is dead," Nysa said softly causing Lady Stark to look back at the young maiden.

"I am sorry about that."

"Ser Jamie killed Torrhen! He murdered him," Nysa screamed. "I may not be a mother! But I'll do anything for the ones I love! And Lord Baelish took that away, Ser Jamie took that away, you took that away!"

A hand came out, faster than she expected it to. Lord Frey stood up as well as Lord Umber. Lady Catelyn gasped and pulled her hand back. Nysa reached a shaky palm up to her face where Lady Catelyn had slapped her and noted how her face had heated up in both shame and anger.

"Nysa, I..."

Nysa's eyes started to water. She'd had men - harsh and cruel guards from the South - cause her physical harm. She'd never thought that Lady Catelyn - a woman who had practically raised her - would ever do such a thing.

"I understand that you are upset and grieving for Torrhen, Nysa, truly I do," Lady Catelyn went to touch her shoulder but Nysa stepped back. "You forget that I lost my betrothed, too. He was taken by yo..." Lady Catelyn stopped abruptly and looked away. "I lost my betrothed. And now I've lost my husband. I know your grief, Nysa, more than you could ever know. You may not agree with me. You may not even like me right now. But I stand by what I did. Robb knows how to fight in battles. His Lords know how to command their men. But all I know is my family and I want them safe. So, I will do what I know is best for each and everyone of them."

* * *

"Is that where you get your skill from?"

Nysa turned to see Ser Perwyn nodding towards Lady Dacey. "She is highly skilled, Ser Perwyn. I would not be caught leering at her."

Perwyn snorted before walking forward. "I like my women strong, so I suppose it would not matter." He came to stand by Nysa. "It is good to see you again."

"And it is good to see you," she nodded before turning back to Lyra who swung her sword, cutting the training dummy in half. "Now what am I to practice on," Nysa called out, teasing her friend.

"You and I could spar," Ser Perwyn bowed to her before walking towards the open yard. He got into his stance and looked opposite of where he stood to see that Nysa did not follow him. "What's wrong?"

"She did not want to fight against a man just yet," Dacey narrowed her eyes at him.

Ser Perwyn scoffed and shook his head. He lifted his hand to point at her. "You've killed the Mountain, a feat in itself that is no small task." He paused and chuckled. "Men here in the Riverlands have longed to plunge their swords into him for the cruelty he brought down upon all of us," he put his hands out as half of the yard cheered. "And yet none of them got the chance," he said quieting them down, "but you," Ser Perwyn's sword lifted to Nysa. "You are ready."

Nysa unsheathed her sword as Ser Perwyn's eyes narrowed at the steel. That was the Valyrian steel sword that Torrhen Karstark had been carrying on his journey. He did not know much about it - only that it belonged to the young woman standing in front of him. She no longer wore the same dress she had worn earlier this morning when they had arrived at Harrenhal. No, Nysa wore breeches and a tunic - black and form-fitting.

Gendry walked towards Nysa then and handed her a small black helmet. It appeared delicate and the design was intricate - it could have acted as a mask instead. But the more the others thought about it, the smith - Gendry - had made it that way for Nysa. Tails of black fur - or small metal chains, whatever they were - hung from the sides. She looked a little like death and Perwyn had to shake his head to focus on the maiden before him.

She charged at him first - sloppily, Perwyn had to admit.

He defended himself for the most part. She didn't have a tactic or particular skill when it came to using the sword.

Finally, he decided to end it and with a couple moves was able to sweep her off her feet.

Nysa screamed angrily and scurried to get up. Was he trying to make a fool out of her? She charged again only to get deflected by him. This continued on until finally, Nysa tore her brother's dagger from her boot and ran into Ser Perwyn, tackling him to the ground. She had just lifted the dagger up into the air to stab him when she saw that he was smiling.

"You were mocking me, this whole time," she practically shouted at him.

"I was not mocking you," he chuckled before moving his leg and nudging her off. "You were doing that on your own."

"How dare you," Lyra went to step forward but her sister stopped her.

"Your friend here charges without thinking," Ser Perwyn nodded to Nysa before moving her hand that held the dagger towards him, "but you do this as though it were second nature."

"The last time I sparred using the sword was against my Uncle," Nysa looked away sadly.

"The knight who went back to Winterfell," Ser Perwyn asked as Nysa nodded.

She had been told by Lord Karstark that her Uncle had fallen by the hand of Theon Greyjoy. He had gone back to Winterfell, under Robb's urging. Neither of them knew that Theon had betrayed his King, that Lord Greyjoy had planned to attack the North. Now she held the sword that she had refused to learn when she was a child and swore that she'd plunge it into Theon's gut.

"My Uncle taught everyone in Winterfell how to use a sword, even that Greyjoy."

Perwyn smiled in understanding before moving her in another stance. "The best thing that I can tell you to do is to treat your sword as though it were a dagger. Remember that you have a keen eye for a person's fighting styles and you can determine which moves they use the most. Just as you did with the joust," he pointed out, "watch your opponent first and then determine what would be best for you to do. Now," he nodded to the sword, "what skills do you use with a dagger?"

"I've never really taken to a sword," Nysa answered honestly. "My Uncle would have a headache trying to teach me. My brother said that with a dagger, I only need to strike at three places. If I'm low to the ground," she knelt to show where she would plunge her sword into Ser Perwyn who nodded.

"Most men don't have armor there," he praised her brother's reasoning.

"If the guard is taller than me, then," she twisted the sword and held the point towards Perwyn's throat, "thrust up." She received another nod of approval. "And if he's too close, has me up against the wall," their bodies came to press against one another.

A small jab came to Ser Perwyn's side and he smiled. "You gut him," he added, "did your brother tell you to twist the dagger..."

"As I pull out," she nodded, "and never let it go."

"Same thing with your sword," Ser Perwyn gestured to it, as he took a step away from her. "Always hold it firm and close, it'll help to keep your form balanced also."

A throat cleared, causing everyone's head to turn into the direction that it was coming from. Robb stood there, his eyes trained on Nysa. He couldn't allow them to part, especially with the way he had treated her in front of his Lords and the other Northmen. It wasn't right. Lord Karstark would be the next one he'd talk to. He had apparently spoken much to Nysa about things Robb would have rather she heard from him instead of others.

"Your Grace," a few of them bowed. Robb simply nodded at them, barely acknowledging the men.

Nysa hesitated at first - uncertain about what he wanted - before dipping into a curtsy.

"If you are done training the young Lady, might I beg a word with her," Robb gestured for Nysa to come to him. She made a clicking sound with her tongue and her teeth as though she rather not go with the King. "Please," he pleaded as Nysa lifted her chin in the air and strode past Robb, ignoring his offered hand.

Robb sighed but followed Nysa towards the pathway that she was walking.

"Nysa," Robb groaned at the pace she had set. "Would you slow..."

She turned quickly to look at him, her eyes burning with fury. He had never seen her so upset. Sad, yes. Depressed, yes. Frustrated, irritated, annoyed - yes to all of them. But this was a different expression set upon her face and it almost frightened him.

"I did not want the others to see you speaking to a bastard," she spat out.

She was upset about their earlier argument. After she had ran from the room where his mother was, Robb followed her down the hall. He thought to comfort her but she turned her anger towards him, questioning his decision to allow Ramsay Snow to go back to the North. She didn't trust him and that he had acknowledged. But Lord Bolton is one of his bannermen, one of his father's bannermen. He trusted House Bolton. And in the middle of their argument, he'd called her a bastard who didn't know anything. She was shocked and appalled and the slap that landed across his cheek told him everything.

"I didn't mean it the way it came out and you know it," Robb began.

Nysa folded her arms across her chest. "Actually you did mean it exactly that way," she demanded, "you knew what you were doing when you said it."

"Everyone keeps turning me in that direction or this and I..."

"You couldn't listen to one more word coming out of my mouth, is that it? I'm just the bastard girl who grew up with you. It's not like I protected your sister and helped capture Harrenhal and..."

"Gods Nysa," Robb ran his hand through his hair, sounding exasperated. "I did not come here to argue with you. I wanted to apologize and you're making it difficult for me. Why can't you just stay quiet?"

"Apparently I'm not a good bastard. Well, what do you know," she looked away, "Joffrey, Cersei, Littlefinger and Lord Bolton are right," she snorted, "I don't really know my place."

Robb sighed again. "You do know it," he replied quietly. "It's my fault for forgetting that it's right alongside my sister, my mother or anyone else who I hold in high regard." Nysa softened a bit at seeing Robb begin to calm down. "My father promised your father, Ser Rodrik and Jory that you would always have a place in Winterfell," he nodded, "you are my best friend, Nysa. And friends are hard to come by in stressful times such as these. You are right. You have been there since we were children. My father, my mother, my sisters, my brothers," he smiled, "they've always welcomed you as though you were one of us. And I let my frustration slip. I took it out on you because you were there, you were yelling at me, you were censuring me," he chuckled.

He walked towards a spot a few feet away and looked out across the yard. The silence was maddening. Nysa wanted to yell and shout. She wasn't sure why, either. It could have been that the grief over Torrhen and her Uncle's death had passed. And now she was experiencing the anger towards those who caused it. After a sigh, she walked slowly to stand next to Robb.

"It's easy to forget that I would always listen to your words, especially when everyone else wants me to be a King," he explained.

"Forgive me, too," she said as their eyes met, "since we're speaking on forgetting ourselves. I forgot that you are under much duress as well. I didn't think to put myself in your place and," Nysa shook her head with a small smile on her face. "And it did not help that you finally got your sister and one of your best friends back only to have them both turn on you."

Robb chuckled lightly and nodded. "Arya is happy a bit - as happy as she could be. But she does not agree with my decisions either."

"She hardly listened to anything proper before all of this."

He reached out and slowly ran his hand down her arm until he reached her fingers and locked them together with his. "I think a part of me deserved it. I don't know what I'm doing Nysa," he confessed. "I think you are the only one who I have admitted that to - other than Theon," he finished with a snarl.

"It's true, then? He's really taken Winterfell?"

"He has," Robb answered.

"And my Uncle," Nysa's voice cracked.

Robb took a deep breath and glanced up at her. He didn't need to answer. She already knew it to be true. She just wanted - hoped - that Lord Bolton had been wrong.

"I'm sorry about Ser Rodrik. And I'm sorry about," Robb's voice broke this time and he knew why. "I'm sorry about Torrhen Karstark."

She closed her eyes and nodded. Sniffing and wiping away at the tears that were forming, she attempted a smile. "I hear that you are to wed soon."

"Nysa..."

"It had to be done," Nysa stood straighter. Robb attempted once more to bring her back to him but she shook her head. "In order to get the men needed to fight for your sisters. In order to cross the Twins to get to your father, in order to get more men for your army you had to wed a Lady. You had to wed someone who was the daughter of a Lord."

"You know that I would not choose a bride for her wealth or status. But this time, it was..."

"It was necessary to wed someone who has a name," tears began to stream down her face. "You know when your father told me that he was writing a betrothal contract for me and Torrhen, I thought about you. And I knew that you would find a beautiful young Lady from a great House..."

"I haven't even met her," Robb interjected.

"She could still be very beautiful."

"I don't know her name."

"Why are you making excuses, Robb?"

"I just can't help but think that it should still be you," he responded.

She made to turn around - to run away before the situation became dire - but felt his hand grip onto hers. They struggled at first. Nysa pounded his chest with her fists as Robb tried to calm her with assurances of his feelings but she knew that his words to her meant nothing. He whispered into her ear how much he missed her, how much he thought about her while they were apart, how much he wanted to go back to Winterfell with her - just him and her.

"But it is just a foolish dream," Robb finished. "Nothing could come of it."

"If being in the South taught me anything, it is that I - a girl with no name - means little in the world."

"If I was free of my betrothal," Robb began.

"Don't," Nysa shook her head against his chest. "Let us not entertain such foolishness. Like you said it was just a dream."

"But if I was," he continued. "Would you," he paused, feeling his chest tighten. "Would you accept me?"

"I cannot answer that."

"You still love him don't you, even though he is gone."

"The love I have for him will be there for a long time, perhaps forever."

Robb moved them so he could look down upon her. "And what of your love for me?"

"I loved you both," she whispered before letting a tear fall.

"Which one did you love more?"

"I cannot answer that either. And as you said, none of that matters, Robb. You are to wed a Lady from House Frey. Let us not dwell too much on it," she rest her head on his chest as he ran his hand soothingly down her back.

Robb held her as though it were the last time he could. He could pray and dream that they were back in Winterfell but she was right, he was right. None of that mattered now. They were here in Harrenhal. They were faced with war. Their home was under attack. People had expectations of him, of her. And those expectations did not involve one another. He sighed and held her closer. He had so much on his shoulders and was glad that one small moment away from everything - away from being King and the expectations that came with it - and simply just be Robb.

* * *

Nysa walked slowly towards the room she had been staying in with Ser Lucion. She wasn't sure what she'd find there but she was glad to have a moment to herself. She had just left the yard where Gendry and her had a rather disappointing conversation.

"That wasn't right what you did," Gendry told her when she had walked into his small room. He didn't look up at her but continued to work on the sword he had in his hand. "You shouldn't disrespect the King or his mother," Gendry glanced over his shoulder quickly before returning to work.

"My betrothed is dead because..."

Gendry moved the sword and stuck it back onto the coals. "Would your betrothed appreciate you speaking like that to his mother?"

At first she was taken aback by his questioning. She'd never disrespect Lady Karstark. That woman had been like a mother to her. The only other Lady she considered in high regard was... She paused and realized what Gendry was pointing out. "No, he would not," Nysa answered honestly.

"Would he have welcomed your attitude that you displayed to the King?"

"You didn't seem to care whether or not I..."

"Because I was waiting for the opportune time to speak to you about it," Gendry answered her, glancing at her with a frustrated look. " _We_ don't do things like that, Nysa! We don't speak out of turn. We don't disrespect those who are higher than we are!"

Nysa shook her head, as though not understanding quite what Gendry was implying.

He sighed heavily and gestured for her to sit down. "We - me and you," he pointed between them, "we're bastards, Nysa. We don't address Lords or Ladies without being addressed to first. We don't shout at them in their private quarters, in castle hallways or in courtyards in front of the eyes of others. We don't deny them the way you so decidedly denied the King!"

"Deny him?"

"Yes," Gendry replied, "when he requested to speak with you, you acted as though you were some high-born and..."

"Lord Stark has always told me that I can speak freely and openly," Nysa stood.

"I'm sorry to say it, Nysa, but Lord Stark is no longer alive," he said gently as the anger in Nysa was replaced with grief. Her chest heaved and she looked away, tears threatening to spill forth. "Forgive me, Nysa," Gendry called her attention again. "I'm just," he sighed. "You are right. Lord Stark allowed you to behave in such a manner. The other Northern Lords may have allowed you some liberties befitting a high-born but," he paused.

"But in truth, I am no high-born," Nysa finished, feeling as though she were back in the Capital. "My father may have been a knight and my mother may have been a Lady but that means little since they were not wed."

"Nysa..."

She held up her hand to stop him. "Let me just say, Gendry, that I never - well in truth, rarely - ever felt that I was a bastard. Lord Stark," she sniffed her tears, "he treated me as though I were a Lord's daughter or his own kin. Lady Stark even..."

Nysa looked away and thought of Lady Stark then, closing her eyes and allowing the guilt to consume her.

"For someone who has graced you with extreme kindness, you repaid it in kind," he sarcastically bit out and Nysa felt truly reprimanded. "You are not in the North and Lord Stark is no longer alive to oversee your care. I understand that you were treated, um," Gendry scratched the back of his neck. "I understand that you were treated as though you were not a bastard. But you are one, Nysa."

A snort escaped her mouth and she shook her head. "Everyone has been telling me that since we left the North. From the moment that the King and Queen arrived in Winterfell, I've seen the disdain that Jon and I received on more than one occasion." She slowly sat back down. "Did you know that the last time I was actually called a 'bastard' was by another back in the Dreadfort?"

Gendry shook his head and she understood his confusion.

"The Dreadfort is the home of House Bolton in the North," she explained. "Lord Bolton's son, he," she paused and shook her head. "He too, told me what 'good' bastard girls ought to do. When I went to Karhold, Lady Karstark told me not to listen to him. That I was a Lady," she wiped her face.

"You live a life that many others like us would envy, Nysa," Gendry went to sit by her. "I do not know how to read or write well. I never got to sit at the high-table, let alone be in a dining hall with other high-born. I do not know how to dance or..." Gendry chuckled. "I do not know a lot of things that you or Arry had ever been graced with."

Nysa laughed and turned to him. "You could become a knight. For there are many knights who do not know writing or dancing skills, either."

"Are you teasing me," he smiled.

"Never," she smiled in return before they both shared a laugh.

After they had lapsed into silence, Gendry sobered and turned to her. "Your behavior may have been allowed in the North or when Lord Stark was alive but the truth of it is that you had no right to say such things," he said as she nodded solemnly. "It is hard for you to grasp, I understand that now. You were allowed to dine in the hall of Lords, Ladies and even the King and Queen. But, people like you, like me, like us," he clarified, "we don't behave in such a way. I'm sure the northern Lords may have tolerated it but m'lady's brother is King now. He is not Lord Stark's son. He is their King. He is King of the Trident as well. We don't want him to lose their respect."

"Nysa."

They both jerked slightly and turned towards Gendry's doorway to see her brother standing there. He gestured for her to follow him out and so she did. A distance away Nysa spotted a few of the guards training. Her brother lifted up his hand, signalling for her to take a turn towards another part of the grounds. When he stopped at a location where Nysa recognized as the same spot she was with Robb, she realized that her brother had probably witnessed or overheard their conversation.

"He is betrothed, Nysa."

"I know that," she replied.

"He may be the boy that you grew up with but he is a King now, a King betrothed to..."

"To a Lady from House Frey, I understand," her voice was clipped and Jory turned to her to see his sister trying to remain calm.

"I am going to suggest that you stay away from him," Jory stated. Nysa narrowed her eyes slightly. "It is obvious that he cares for you, Nysa. Perhaps he always will. But if our journey to King's Landing has taught us anything, it is that a King will take mistresses to his bed."

"Robb is too honorable to..."

"Nysa," Jory warned. Nysa sighed, pressed her lips and closed her eyes before giving her brother a slight nod. "I know that this sounds heartless considering that Torrhen has died and you have yet to grieve for him as well as our Uncle, but you can still wed," he whispered the last part causing her head to shoot up at him.

Her eyes were wide as Jory took her hands in his. "Are you telling me to give my heart away..."

"Not at this moment," he replied. "But with Winterfell currently in the hands of either the Greyjoys or the Boltons, I need to think of your safety and where you shall go."

"What do you mean?"

"If Ramsay secures Winterfell for Robb, what do you think he'll ask for as his payment?" Nysa shook her head. "Perhaps Lord Bolton could ask Robb to legitimize his son," he put forth. "And Ramsay will need a wife or maybe Lord Bolton will seek a wife."

"They wouldn't ask for me," she whispered.

"I wouldn't put it past them. Lord Stark's arrangement still stands. Your Lord Uncle still has a lot for you to inherit," he reminded her.

"Gendry just reminded me that a lot of things are no longer possible since Lord Stark has passed."

"Lady Stark will honor it but you'll have to go and make your peace with her." Nysa turned away at Jory's suggestion. "She has been like a mother to you since Lord Stark and I brought you back to Winterfell. She was only doing what she believe to be right and to get her daughters back. Do you realize that you disrespected the Queen Mother?"

"You heard about it as well," she asked with a sigh. It seemed as though everyone in Harrenhal knew of her discussion with Lady Catelyn.

"She may not have the vindictive, harsh demeanor as the Queen Mother of the Iron Throne. But she loves her children fiercely and you are included in that, do you not realize that?"

"She allowed Ser Jamie to be set free," Nysa shook her head. "She allowed Baelish to..."

"To Manipulate her," Jory finished. "Lord Stark was also manipulated, we all were. She was not there to see what happened. There was no way for us to get a raven to warn her. I'm sure when he presented Lord Stark's bones to her that he told Lady Stark that if she released Ser Jamie, then her daughters would be returned to her as well. Not everything is painted as it seems. And you remember what Arya said about Littlefinger when he came here. He was scheming to put Margery Tyrell in Sansa's place. He plays both sides, he has been doing so for a long time."

"He does whatever suits him best," Nysa nodded.

"And what suited him best was to play to Lady Stark's love for her children and her husband. Look how quickly he was able to get the Tyrells to fight for the Iron Throne," her brother reminded her. "Besides pitying Lady Stark for her error, remember that she has a good heart - the same heart that took you in when you were but a child. She didn't need to but she did."

Nysa nodded, feeling once more properly reprimanded.

"I'm sure she will convince her son to allow his father's wishes for you to stand. You could still wed a Lord in the North of your choosing - someone you trust and know. You could even choose a knight that you've met here in the South - something I'm sure that your Lord Uncle would be pleased with."

"What does all of this have to do with staying away from Robb?"

"All of that means nothing if Robb takes you to his bed." Jory gripped her hands tighter. "He cares for you. His eyes are only for you. I've seen it, heard your conversation with him."

"You were spying on me," she questioned.

"The two of you were locked in an embrace. You hardly noticed I was there. Again, I want to remind you that you should not get too familiar with the King. Not when you have so much more at stake. It will only be ruin if you allow it to happen."

Nysa pushed back the door and looked about the room - the room she had dined with Ser Lucion. Thinking about the last two conversations she had with both Gendry and her brother - she had never felt so empty in her life.

Slowly her feet took her to the table and she sat there, contemplating the last conversation she had with Ser Lucion. She had no home to go to. Winterfell was destroyed. Robb may have sent Ramsay back to help liberate it but she couldn't grasp that notion of obtaining assistance from the Boltons. She sighed and fiddled with the threading of her dress. House Bolton was - and still is - a northern House in service to House Stark. They came to help Robb get Sansa and Arya back, defend the North and Lord Stark. Robb, she shook her head. No, he is King Robb now - a King who is betrothed to a Lady from House Frey.

Nysa sunk in the chair, her good manners and posture leaving her. She was also without Torrhen.

 _He brought out his bow and the few arrows in its holder. "You still remember what I taught you?"_

 _"Of course," she smiled._

 _"Take this with you, use it if you have to," he lifted his hand to her cheek. "It will be as though a part of me were with you."_

A tear ran down Nysa's cheek as she thought about that day in Winterfell when they had told one another their farewells. That's exactly what it had been - a farewell. She'd never see Torrhen again and that hurt her - broke something in her that she didn't know was there. There was a chance at happiness and freedom with Torrhen. Lord Stark had promised her Greenhall as a wedding gift. She smiled at the silly notion of perhaps wedding someone else now. She couldn't fathom it.

 _She hurried past Lord and Lady Stark before running towards her Uncle. "Oh Uncle," she threw her arms around him. "I wish we were back at Winterfell. I wish..."_

 _"Hush now," he pushed her back slightly before tapping her chin, "keep your head up, child. It can't be all that bad."_

"Oh Uncle," she folded her arms on the table and rest her head on them. It is terrible now, she thought. Horrible! Her Uncle was gone. True, her other Uncle would send her fine dresses and jewels and such. But Ser Rodrik had been there with her everyday. He would battle imaginary monsters that were attacking her in her nightmares. He'd taught her to ride - just as well as the boys because 'she was his niece'.

They were both gone. And now that the anger had left her, all she had was grief.

* * *

Robb held the parchment in his hand and sighed heavily. Closing his eyes, he threw it towards the middle of the table and shook his head. "What my sister and those who were in Harrenhal stated about the Tyrell alliance is true," he announced before looking up at his Lords. "Lord Tywin was able to return to King's Landing with the Tyrell forces and defeated Stannis," he gritted out.

A few of the northern Lords shook their heads, cursing and murmuring among themselves. It was then that Ser Stevron Frey stood up. His complexion was no longer pale as when they last saw him. It was as though several years had been shaved off of his face and for a moment they wondered what had happened to bring him into such a state. He cleared his throat, gaining their attention. He looked at Robb first. Robb nodding his approval, Ser Stevron began to speak.

"With Tywin so far south, I think it best to approach your original plan of taking Casterly Rock," Ser Stevron suggested.

"He wouldn't have allowed a large party to return to the Westerlands," Lord Bracken agreed. "Taking Casterly Rock now would be opportunistic."

"They're still trying to recover from the siege on King's Landing," commented Lord Blackwood who sat on the opposite end by the Northern lords. It caused a few to turn. "And if I'm not mistaken, your Uncle has recently chased a Lannister army out of the Riverlands. For now they won't give us much trouble."

"Although," Lord Glover interjected. "Casterly Rock is quite far from here. You have some men in Castamere but not enough."

"Perhaps we shouldn't have marched this way," Patrek Mallister spoke up.

"We had to regroup," Lord Glover looked over at his brother, "it was vital to the strength of the North and to the Riverlands," he nodded at the river Lords. "My Grace, you had your army scattered about. This was good that we come here and claim this castle."

"You had no wish to take the Iron Throne, your Grace," Smalljon responded. "All you want is peace for the North and to return your sisters. We got one of them back and that is a victory in itself."

"What of Winterfell," Robb asked turning towards Lord Bolton.

Lord Bolton nodded. "My son's last raven informed me that they had just arrived. They will carry out your instructions as ordered," he gave a slight nod.

"Once I know that my brothers are safe then we'll march on to Casterly Rock," Robb stated. "Jory," he called forth.

Jory stepped forward and nodded to Robb.

"I want you to take my mother, my sister and," there was a pause in his voice before he cleared his throat. "And take your sister back home as well. My mother can ensure that my father's bones have been laid to rest in the crypt," he said softly. "My sister has seen enough war and death. And as for your sister," Robb reached over and took a parchment in hand. "This was," he paused and took another breath. "This was written while Torrhen was alive. It was to allow Nysa and Torrhen to have Greenhall," Robb looked up at Lord Karstark.

"A generous offer," Lord Karstark nodded with a gruff voice.

"My father wanted Nysa to have it and it would have made a good wedding gift for them," he tried to smile but couldn't. "I think," he paused and looked at Jory. "When your sister is ready, inform her that my father's intentions for her still stand. House Cassel has served us well. She'll be protected under the care of House Stark until she chooses to wed."

* * *

Jon warily approached the side of the castle, looking at the guards who were there. He wondered if he should announce himself or just stay hidden. By now everyone would have known that he had deserted the Wall. He wasn't jesting Sam when he said that he knew more about deserters than anyone else. He had gone with his father and Robb on several occasions to see what happened to a deserter from the Wall. Whether that was to be his fate or not, he walked closer to the walls of the castle.

"Who goes there," someone shouted.

Jon wasn't as hidden as he thought he was, apparently. "My name is Jon Snow. I am the son of Lord Eddard Stark, brother to Robb Stark. I've come here to speak to one of Lord Umber's brothers about helping me get to my brother."

There was a small discussion between the two guards who stood above him. He let out a shaky breath as they both disappeared, hopefully to inform whoever was left in charge of Last Hearth that he was here.

He had been some time that he had been waiting outside until he noticed a noise from around the corner. He walked towards it, pulling his horse behind him. Jon halted when he saw Osric Umber, Greatjon's second-born son, upon a horse flanked with a few guards.

"We received a raven about your desertion," Osric looked at Jon with pain in his eyes. "You broke your vows, Jon."

"I know," Jon replied.

"I never thought that it would be you."

Jon nodded and looked down.

"My brother fights with my father, fights for your brother, for your father."

"I'm sure you've heard the news about my father," Jon interrupted.

Osric nodded. "Is that why you've left?"

"I had a decision to make. Believe me," Jon looked up, "it was not an easy one to make. But I ride South for my father."

"You broke your vow," Osric repeated. "You should be executed. You know that."

Again, Jon nodded, carefully considering the men behind Osric. Many of them didn't like his presence here either. At the same time, they didn't want to pass judgement down upon him. Jon mulled this over. Perhaps he would be able to get out of this without a scratch.

"I just want to help my brother, help my father, my sisters," Jon began. "Robb went South to get Sansa and Arya, avenge our father. I want to do the same."

Osric gulped and put his horse forward. He dismounted and stood in front of Jon. "The last I heard, the Ironborn are attacking Deepwood Motte and Bear Island. If they get pass, they'll march up to Last Hearth. Rumor is that Torrhen's Square has already been taken, along with Winterfell."

"Winterfell," Jon's eyes narrowed.

"You haven't heard that piece of news," he asked. Jon shook his head. Osric cursed and turned away, towards the guards and then back to Jon. "Theon Greyjoy betrayed your brother. Word is that your other brothers, Bran and Rickon are dead at Theon's hand."

"No," Jon shook his head again and took a step back. "You're lying. Theon would never..."

"He's the one who sits in Winterfell now. His father has proclaimed himself King the same as your brother, Robb."

"King," Jon couldn't understand. He felt all sorts of feelings at the moment, anger, frustration, hurt, betrayal, hatred, grief and oddly comfort as well. Robb was King now. He could do something surely about Theon, right? Jon shook his head.

"Well," Osric cleared his throat, "my father was the first to proclaim your brother, King. The rest of the Lords agreed."

"Is Theon still at Winterfell," he questioned.

Osric nodded.

"I won't go South then," Jon shook his head.

"You broke your vows, only to turn around defeated?"

"No," Jon looked determined and pulled his horse forward. "The Ironborn don't belong in the North. They never did. I will ride to Deepwood Motte first and then march down to Winterfell. I will get rid of every Ironborn who thinks he can take the North away from my brother." Jon mounted his horse and looked over at Osric. "Your father declared my brother, Robb of House Stark, his King. Would you help your King's brother protect the North, protect our home," he questioned.

Osric smirked and nodded, pulling on the reins of his horse before mounting up as well. "Deepwood Motte?"

"Deepwood Motte," Jon nodded, "for the King and for the North."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Theon looked around the room of Ironborn. "I took the great castle of Winterfell with twenty men."

"You're a great warrior," Yara acknowledged before biting into her meat and pointing outside. "I saw the two bodies above your gates when I entered. Which one gave you the tougher fight? The cripple or the six year old," she asked with casual indifference.

It did not stop the men from laughing at Theon. He huffed indignantly and marched towards his sister, coming to a halt where she sat. "I treated the Stark boys with honor and they repaid me with treachery."

Yara looked up at her brother. "You treated them with honor," she questioned, "by butchering them," a raised eyebrow and a questioning look fell on her face.

Theon didn't like it. "Before I," he emphasized but his sister was not having any of it.

"You use their home as is your right," she clarified. "We're Ironborn, we take what we need."

"Exactly!"

"Then you made them prisoners in their home and they ran away," she looked towards him. "Is that treachery? I call it bravery."

"They made me a promise."

Yara looked down, shaking her head before staring up at him. "Oh, the little boy prisoners made you a promise and you got mad when they broke it? Are you the dumbest cunt alive?"

"Call me a..."

"Cunt," Yara stated again. "A dumb cunt who killed the only two Starks in Winterfell. You know how valuable those boys were?"

"If I didn't kill them, the Northerners would think me weak."

"You are weak. And you're stupid."

"I'm warning you," Theon threatened.

Yara didn't appear to be deterred in anyway. "Go on then. Warn me," she said.

Theon turned to look down at the table. All the men were silent, looking upon the exchange with interest, a few with mocking stares. He didn't need that. Instead he focused back on his sister. He had just captured Winterfell for his family and this is how they repay him?

"You haven't brought enough men. How am I supposed to defend Winterfell with just this lot?"

"You are not," Yara commented. "I've come to bring you home. Father wants a word."

"Is this a joke," Theon chuckled. "Winterfell is the heart of the North."

"Aye it is," she agreed. "Hundreds of miles from the sea," she added. "We're Islanders, baby brother. Or have you forgotten that? Our power comes from our ships. And now that you've decorated your walls with the bodies of the Stark boys, every man in the North wants to see you hanged. When Robb Stark finds out," she shook her head.

"Robb won't find out. We've killed all the ravens. We have all the horses. I've taken Winterfell. And I will keep Winterfell."

Yara sighed, knowing this needed more than just ridicule and shame. "Leave us," she nodded to the men, who promptly listened to her word.

She stood up and came face to face with him.

"Theon you are my blood," she spoke softly, kindly and a bit too fondly for her men to be present. She was about to show a familial weakness she did not need them to see. But her brother needed to see it. "We both loved our mother. We both endured our father. Come home with me. Don't die here, alone."

"I don't intend to die," he snapped back.

"Do you know what is happening right now, brother," Yara asked. "Right now there is a small Northern army that is heading your way from the South. And our scouts report that there is a second small Northern army fighting at Deepwood Motte as we speak. Do you know _why_ they are fighting? It is because you killed those boys. Now is not the time to think about your pride or bringing glory to our father. Think about your life, Theon," she urged him. "They will come for you."

"I will stop them."

Yara shook her head and looked down. "You still whine the same as you did when you were a baby." Lifting her head, she stared pointedly at him. "You were a terribly baby, did you know that? Bawling all the time, never sleeping. One night you just wouldn't shut up," she added. "I walked over to your crib, looked down at you. I wanted to strangle you. You looked up at me and you stopped screaming. You smiled at me."

"Yara, what..."

"Don't die so far from the sea," she advised one last time before walking away.

* * *

Jon looked back at Osric as he gave an order to Umber guard. Greatjon's younger brother, Harmund Umber was also here. He stood next to Jon, staring out over at Deepwood Motte. The Ironborn were leading stolen goods out from the walls - that much was certain.

"There's a passageway up that hill," Osric jogged back towards Jon. "It's an unknown tunnel that will lead us straight into the heart of Deepwood Motte. Our other scouts say that there are some longships waiting at the shore and a thousand Ironborn have secured the castle."

"A thousand," Jon questioned. "I wonder how much men Theon used to capture Winterfell."

"Far less than a thousand, I'm afraid," Osric answered nervously.

"I heard that it wasn't even a hundred," Harmund Umber added.

Jon glanced at Osric, anger boiling from the pit of his stomach out to the tips of his finger. His hand tightened on his sword and glanced back at the castle on the hill. He wondered if Theon had marched straight into Winterfell - using his prior relationship as a ward to undermine his brother. Bran had already endured much and for Theon to subject him to that. Theon was going to die - slow and painfully.

"What about now," Harmund turned back to his nephew.

Osric looked confused. "Now?"

"How many Ironborn are in Deepwood Motte now?"

"Many of them have fled. They've heard about us coming, no doubt," Osric replied. "But we are still outnumbered."

"They know the North wants revenge," Jon commented. "That's why they're leaving. They know that we're here. They must know that Robb is sending someone to defend Winterfell."

"Let us hope so," Harmund stated. "Now which way are we going in? Through the tunnel?"

"They won't expect it," said Jon. "We'll send some men through there. Osric and I will go with them," he nodded towards the other young man. "Harmund, I want you to go around, through the front. The Ironborn won't know what to do. They'll try to retreat but there will be nothing and no where for them to retreat to but back to their Iron Isle."

* * *

"Leave me," Robb commanded his Lords as they sighed and exited the room.

They had been working on a strategy in regards to his sister, Sansa. Now that Joffrey had cast her aside for Margery Tyrell of Highgarden it seemed that she was in greater need of rescuing. Jory had stated that Sansa had found favor in Joffrey's eyes - which was difficult to regain after the incident on the Kingsroad. Many of the Lords were sure that with her being betrothed to Joffrey, she would be safe. But now, Robb shook his head and threw the parchments about the room. Things weren't so simple now.

His head snapped up at the small noise at the doorway. Slowly his hand reached towards his sword as the door pushed open. It wasn't an attacker. It wasn't one of his Lords returning to discuss matters. Instead he pulled his hand back and felt a huge wave of relief at seeing the young woman peer into the room. She looked startled when their eyes met. She had been avoiding him for the past couple days and he wasn't sure why. She bowed her head sadly and went to leave.

"Nysa," Robb called out to her.

Nysa looked over her shoulder and nodded to him. "Forgive me for intruding on your privacy, your Grace. I was seeking my brother."

"I just dismissed him along with the rest of my Lords. Our discussions about our next plan of action was going nowhere soon."

She offered a tentative smile before nodding again. "Then I will leave you to your thoughts. Good day, your Grace."

Robb took offense at the title. The last time they had spoke, he held her in his arms and sought comfort from his expectations as King. He wasn't sure that he could stand to watch her leave him alone again. And that's when it happened. Something snapped inside of him at the thought that she was pulling away from him.

"Don't leave."

"I have to speak to my brother."

"Surely it can wait," Robb pleaded. "I haven't seen you these past three days. And I want some other form of conversation besides this war."

"Then you should seek out Arya. She's desperate to leave her room and begin her training down in the yard," Nysa attempted to smile.

"My sister has already found her way down there and is training with Lady Dacey," he chuckled slightly. "I would much rather speak to you."

She was about to walk away from the door and approach him but instead turned away. "I have to go."

"I want you to stay," he said softly. She went to protest but he continued, "I can't have one more person I care about walk out on me, Nysa. Not right now, please. Don't walk out."

Tears started to form in her eyes, the pain in her heart almost more than she could bear. She too wanted to speak to someone about anything other than this war - the war that had taken away the only father-figure she had known, the war that had murdered her betrothed, the war that took away her Uncle, took away her home. She'd never been this vulnerable before. The last time she felt strong was when Robb held her a couple days ago and whispered his dream of them in her ear. She didn't like the feeling she was getting right now.

"I know you feel alone and confused right now. I do too," she admitted.

"Exactly why I want you here."

Nysa shook her head. "I know you feel betrayed by the people that were supposed to protect you. I feel the same, almost - that is true," she acknowledged. "But we can longer speak to each other, Robb. I need to protect myself now. That is why I must go," she replied and went to close the door.

"Please Nysa," he practically shouted, "if you walk away from me I may not be able to survive it."

She was gone and he wasn't sure if she had heard. He looked up and saw that there was a small opening where she had disappeared to. He wondered if she had already gone down the hall. Walking closer to the door, he reached for the handle and pulled it back to see her on the other side of it.

* * *

Theon stared at the fire as the horn continued to sound. Maester Luwin heard his complaints and sighed. "No," he answered Theon's question about Balon Greyjoy.

"Send more ravens," Theon instructed.

Maester Luwin walked further into the room and sat down. "You killed all the ravens."

"First time I saw Winterfell," Theon began and then paused when the horn blew again for the thousandth time. "First time I saw Winterfell," he continued, "it looked like something that had been here for thousands of years and would continue to be here thousands of years after I was dead. I saw it and I thought, of course Ned Stark crushed our rebellion and killed my brothers. We never stood a chance against a man who lives here."

"Lord Stark went out of his way to make it your home."

"Yes, my captors were so very kind. You love reminding me of that. Everyone in this frozen pile of shit has loved reminding me of that. Do you know what its like to be told how lucky you are to be somebody's prisoner? To be told how much you owe them?"

"Lord Stark never took young children as prisoners," Maester Luwin said.

Theon stood up to reply, anger and frustration flowing through him. Instead he was angered more when a horn sounded yet again. He marched towards the wall, "I will kill that man."

Maester Luwin sighed heavily again. He knew Theon was a troubled man but right now he was being prideful. He listened as Theon continued to rant about the other Northmen who were out there and waiting. Turning his head to the young man he watched grow up, he felt that he had to do something - anything to save Theon.

* * *

Jon and Osric stood in the middle of the yard in Deepwood Motte, waiting with anticipation as the gates were lifted slowly. Ghost paced back and forth, his tail low and his mouth pulled back in a snarl. They had entered through the tunnel undetected and made their way inside, killing a few Ironborn who were still left behind. Once the guards from House Glover realized what was happening, they too began to fight the Ironborn soldiers who were left.

One of the Ironborn had just about ready to let an arrow fly towards Jon when Ghost appeared and took him down by his shoulder. Jon nodded to him - as if an understanding had passed through the two - and Ghost continued to defend Jon and the other northerners.

In the chaos, Jon didn't notice that Lady Glover and her children were being taken. There was another battle outside being led by Harmund Umber. Osric had been the first to point out that the Ironborn had retreated with captors and were making their way to the ships. They cut down the chains, closing the gate, trapping the northmen inside of Deepwood Motte.

Jon glanced at the men who were turning the handles, the gate lifting slowly. They did not come all this way to see the Ironborn take Lord Glover's family. No, they were going to protect the North.

"For the North," Jon shouted, adrenaline causing his heart to beat frantically as the gate lifted higher.

"For the North," Osric and the others shouted as they began to run out of Deepwood Motte.

* * *

Robb watched as Nysa sang a Southern melody horribly. It wasn't that she had a horrible voice, no. She was attempting to mimic a singer she heard in the halls of Kings Landing while reliving the tale of Sansa dancing with a Southern knight during a feast they had. Currently they were hiding under the table - something they had done as children in Winterfell when his mother was looking for them.

She turned towards him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He smiled in return as she went to slap his chest. "How dare you ask me to sing and then laugh at me under your breath," she teased.

"All I wanted to know was if the song was appropriate for my sister to be dancing with some knight and you were the one who started to sing it," he teased in return.

"I was attempting to show you what had taken place. I was painting a picture, mentally," she said with a small giggle before covering her mouth.

They both started to laugh at their silliness before she resumed her spot next to him. She sat shoulder to shoulder with him, her legs tucked up under her, smoothing her dress so as not to display anything inappropriate. It didn't matter, Robb thought to himself. Hiding under the table with a King was nowhere proper. But he found that he didn't care.

"Tell me more about this knight that sought my sister's hand."

"He gave your sister a rose before his joust during the tourney," she smiled before it disappeared. "Lord Baelish," Nysa said his name with distaste, "stated that the knight had used deceptive tactics to win."

"Did he?"

Nysa shook her head. "Then again, I didn't believe it. The knight didn't appear to be cunning."

"Where is he from?"

"From Highgarden, he is close friends with Renly Baratheon. I suppose that's why this knight's sister was wed to Renly," Nysa replied.

"Margery Tyrell," he asked as she nodded.

"Have you met her? I was told that she is quite the beauty. When we were in King's Landing, Renly mentioned her once to me. He said she was enchanting. I would have dearly loved to meet someone like that. Perhaps your mother saw her when she went to treat with Renly. She could confirm the rumors."

Robb reached out his land to weave his fingers in with hers. "You would have to ask my mother. I, on the other hand, have not met her and I don't think I need to."

"Why not?"

He leaned forward slowly, watching her intake of breath and the reddening of her cheeks. "Because I already know someone who is enchanting," he whispered before his lips came down on hers.

It was nowhere near soft as their first kisses had been, testing and exploring. No, it was passionate and deliberately intense. Nysa's heart accelerated in her chest and heat swept through her body as Robb's hands moved to wrap around her waist and lift her frame onto his lap. Emotions that they both tried hard to hide broke free. Her arms went around his neck, holding him tightly.

He felt her warmth and it made his cock painfully hard. Robb began to nibble at her lip until he was finally able to pull away, only to press light kisses on her face and down her throat. Nysa's fingers held tightly to his shoulders and her head fell back slowly, surrendering to the storm that Robb was starting. He nipped and licked at a piece of her flesh between her shoulder and neck. She tasted divine.

"Robb."

Her soft voice caught his attention and he moved away to allow his gaze to wander her face, searching for her hidden desire. She looked delightfully aroused with her flushed skin, dark eyes and loose curls. Slowly Nysa fully looked at Robb, their eyes locked. Robb wanted to blot out everything that had happened these torturous months. There would be a long list of things he had to deal with in the morning but for now, he was just a Robb and she was just Nysa.

He rolled them from out under the table and picked her up in his arms. His heart, his mind, his soul had always belong to her. Tonight, he would give her his body.

* * *

Rickon looked around as Hodor walked ahead with his brother.

"Keep," he mumbled as he looked towards the castle. "It is where I sleep."

Smoke rose through the air and white fell down around him. But as he held out his hand he realized that it wasn't snow. It melted between his fingers just like snow would melt but it wasn't cool to the touch. No, it was not. It smudged on the tips of his finger and turned it a greyish color. Hearing his name, he quickly wiped it on the sleeve of his tunic and hurried towards Bran and Hodor to see them standing by Summer and Shaggydog whining about whatever was out there.

His feet caused him to pause and he glanced back at the walls of the castle. "Keep," Rickon murmured again as the smoke and ash continued to grow and his good memories of where he would sleep, slowly disappeared.

"No," he heard the shout of Bran and ran this time, pass the walls of Winterfell and pass the figures of Shaggydog and Summer.

* * *

Alysane Mormont stood near the tidal flats along the shore, looking out over at the five ships she had acquired from the Ironborn. It wasn't much considering but she had many good reason to be proud. The ships were ready to set sail. They would soon be on their way to Bear Island to stay there until they were of use to the North. She watched as the men she assigned to the ships lifted Mormont banners.

Here we stand, she thought.

She turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. One of her men-at-arms nodded to her. "We have gained a victory."

"Have we," she asked.

"Lady Glover and her children are back in Deepwood Motte."

"Good," Alysane nodded in appreciation. "Who from House Umber led the charge? I wish to speak with them."

It was then that a skeptical look came across the guard's face.

"What is it?"

The guard cleared his throat. "Jon Snow led the men," he answered.

"Jon Snow?"

"Lord Stark's son."

"I know who Jon Snow is. But last I heard he was at the Wall," Alysane turned back towards the sea and looked at the Stark banners on one of the ships.

"He wants to march towards Sea Dragon point to ensure that there are no other Ironborn hiding along the shores."

Alysane thought a moment on it and wondered why House Umber had not punished Jon as a deserter. She was sure Last Hearth would have been the first to receive news that Jon had left his post and broken his vow. It was then she thought about what she should do. Lord Stark had always handled those matters, her mother had reminded her of that, reminded everyone of that. They had never had to face deserters on Bear Island. Wildlings, yes. Deserters, no. Thoughts of her Uncle and her cousin entered her mind then. Her cousin had been dishonorable and so left the Seven Kingdoms, causing her Uncle shame.

With traitors and dishonorable men running rampant, even here in the North, she wasn't sure how to handle this piece of news about Lord Stark's own son breaking his vow. A part of her wondered at how House Umber came to terms with such a argument. Should she send word to her Uncle at the Wall and inform him that she knew of Jon's whereabouts?

"He helped free House Glover," the guard reminded her as if he could read her thoughts.

Alysane sighed and looked towards the wolfswood. Just beyond those trees a young man was waiting for her decision. She bit her lip and cursed. House Stark always had the loyalty of House Mormont. Here we stand, she gripped onto the hilt of her sword as she came to her decision.

"I am not one to pass judgement on Jon Snow. He would have to answer for that to his brother and King."

"Then we will march with him?"

"Aye," she nodded. "He rallied what was left of House Umber to come here. And with Winterfell now taken, we'll need all the help we can get to reclaim the North and rid it of the Ironborn."

* * *

Robb laid her down slowly, the weight of his body pressing her into the soft featherbed. He reached a hand behind her and tugged lightly on the tie of her gown, pulling it down and skimming the newly exposed flesh. Nysa felt a new kind of heat take over her as Robb's eyes fell upon her breasts. She felt a bit embarrassed and insecure. That was until Robb's head dipped low and began to caress her breasts in a way that she had never experienced.

She couldn't bring it in herself to leave him, no matter the damage. Not when he was taking away the pain and sorrow that was swallowing her up everyday.

"Nysa," she felt Robb's lips against her stomach, cool and warm at the same time.

She wanted to crawl away from him. She wanted to stay wrapped up in his arms forever. Her heart had broke and yet somehow it had started to beat. The plea in his tone called to her, tying her down and setting her free.

Suddenly his body was gone from hers and she felt the cool breeze hit her body, aware that she was naked. "Don't," Robb reached out for her hand just as she was to cover herself. "You have nothing to be ashamed about, Nysa."

Robb's breathing was as shallow as her own when he gazed on her body. He took a small step back from the bed and quickly freed himself from his clothing. Nysa's insides turned to molten liquid at the sight of his undressing. His muscles moved as they slipped off his tunic and breeches. And when his cock sprang free, she leaned forward and reached out to touch his lower abdomen, watching in awe as his body shivered under her fingertips. Her arousal was growing and overtaking the sensible part of her brain.

Her hand brushed over his long shaft and she shook her head. "I'm not sure what to do," she replied.

Guilt ate away at Robb then. Unlike her, he _had_ done this before. He reached out his hand and cupped her cheek, lifting her head to look up at him. "Do not worry about that. Just know that I want you, Nysa. Tell me what you want. You can have anything tonight."

His voice was deep and her entire body tightened in anticipation. "I want to be loved."

Robb gestured for her to move back on the bed. He climbed over her, kissing, caressing every part of her body. Her toes began to curl as she felt his whiskered chin tickle the inside of her thighs. The room spun and her world tilted as his hands tenderly stroked her center. She moaned and felt her breath depart as his mouth dined on her breasts.

The head of his cock nudged at her entrance and instinctively she slid her feet apart, allowing him to press forward. Just as Robb thrust into her, he brought his mouth down to hers and swallowed her scream. Her muscles stretching uncomfortably and her eyes squeezing shut. Her nails dug into Robb's skin, causing him to groan in delight. Guilt and shame this time ate away at him as he realized he was taking pleasure from this where she was not. He pushed his weight onto his palms and pulled back to look at her.

Nysa didn't feel extreme pain but a throbbing sting that wouldn't go away as she felt him move out and then back in. Robb moved slowly, at his own leisurely pace, studying her face for any indication that she wanted it to stop. He continued with the soft thrusting that she was thankful for. It allowed her muscles to accommodate to his girth inside of her. Robb bent down to kiss her neck and then moved his head to the other side of her, pressing another tender kiss there.

Gasping at the sensations beginning to grow, Nysa opened her eyes and slowly moved her legs to wrap around his body. Robb lifted his head to look at her and their gazes locked. He rocked into her body slowly, never looking away or breaking the connection that had formed, holding them together. Nysa had never felt this close to another human being, this open and exposed. She grasped onto his shoulders as he began to speed up, feeling a tightening in her core.

"Robb," she moaned as her eyes fluttered close before quickly opening again. Her hands moved from her shoulders and tangled in his auburn locks, pulling him down to her. She kissed him with urgency as her core started to pulse, desperate to hold onto something solid for fear that he was sending her body flying.

He nipped at her bottom lip before lifting to look back at her face. Now there was nothing but passion. He felt it too, burning through him. He knew that he cared for Nysa and had even said that he would wed her. But now, he realized just how much he meant all of it. He hadn't expected to feel this deeply or this much. Now he knew that he needed her.

They were consumed in the sounds of their love-making, the warmth of their two bodies moving and the passionate bond keeping them tied to the earth. Robb caught the twisted look on her face. She felt it too. And now he knew, she would be his every night from now on. Burying his head in the crook of her neck, Robb groaned out in pleasurable agony as his seed spilled into Nysa.

* * *

"Lady Glover," Jon bowed his head in respect.

"Jon Snow," her voice pierced through the cool air in the hall. "I have it in me to send you back to the Wall."

Jon flinched and nodded before looking up at her. "Aye, you should. My father would have my head if I came to stand in front of him."

Lady Glover's mouth lifted slowly. "No, I don't think he would."

He wanted to argue with her and remind her that he took a vow, a vow that was for life. His Uncle warned him. Nysa had warned him. _You don't understand what you be giving up._ Uncle Benjen's words echoed in his head. He was giving up Robb, Nysa, Bran, Arya and the rest of them. It was not often that Uncle Benjen came to see them at Winterfell. And even if he did, there were still moments that he missed - Arya learning the bow, Robb on his first hunt, Bran riding a horse or Rickon learning to talk. He made a vow to give that up just as his Uncle Benjen had. And now he was here, asking for all of it back. His father would surely think him a spoiled child.

"Do you really believe that, Jon," Lady Glover asked, "that your father would gladly execute you, his own son?"

"I've seen him lift the blade to other men. I'm sure they were someone's son."

Lady Glover turned her attention towards Osric Umber, content to leave the conversation of Jon Snow for now. "And what is this news about Winterfell? You are certain that the Ironborn have taken that as well?"

Harmund Umber answered for his nephew. "While Torrhen's Square was under attack, Ser Rodrik Cassel had several men from House Karstark, House Manderly, House Hornwood and House Tallhart helping to rid him of the Ironborn. They had just secured Torrhen's Square when Moat Cailin and Winterfell was lost."

"Moat Cailin," questioned Lady Glover, "how is this possible?"

"I do not know how quickly they spread through the North and our arrival here seems late, I know," Osric finally replied.

"If they got pass Deepwood Motte, who knows where they'd march next," Lady Glover shook her head.

"They want to break us," Osric added.

"The Ironborn have killed our ravens," Lady Glover said, looking towards one of her husband's guards. "They want us cut off from our King. We could send a rider but with Moat Cailin gone, I'm not certain if that is what is best."

"Jon," Osric turned to him.

"I left the Wall because I wanted to avenge my father's death. I wanted to protect my sisters who are in the South. I wanted to help my brother," Jon answered. "The Ironborn tried to cut us off but we are still here. We can still protect the North. When I was a child, Ser Rodrik once told me that the North is the largest of the Seven Kingdoms. The largest and yet they are loyal to my father because he is an honorable man. Many of your men have followed Robb to avenge my father, protect my sisters. The rest of us are here to protect the North. We are not lost nor are we cut off."

"But we need to decide what is to be done," Lady Glover stated.

"Once we secure the shores, we'll go down to Winterfell," Jon stated. "And then Moat Cailin. The Ironborn won't take the North. I won't have it."

"And neither will I," Osric added.

Lady Glover nodded. "Take as many men as you need then, Jon Snow. Protect the North."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20  
**

Jory stood still as possible. It would do no good for Nysa if he would show his anger now. In front of him stood Robb Stark - a young man he had seen grown up to become the King in the North - informing Jory that he was to wed Nysa.

They had spoken about this - more than once. She was supposed to stay away from him, not bed to him. He swallowed a deep breath and looked over to window to watch the sky turn dark. It was as though a shadow had been cast upon Harrenhal. And he couldn't help but feel that the cloud would disappear if he made a decision.

"Either way, I would wed your sister," Robb spoke up, denying Jory's previous thoughts.

So the King didn't come here to ask for his permission, Jory shook his head. "Then why did you ask, your Grace?" Robb went to open his mouth but Jory took a step forward. "She is not a simple maiden for you to have your way with and then cast aside in the morning."

"I'm not casting her aside. I am going to do the right thing and wed her, protecting her honor."

"You shouldn't have taken her honor in the first place," Jory shouted before retracting. "Forgive me, my King," he paused, trying to stomp down his temper again.

"You are right. I shouldn't have," Robb admitted. "But it is done and I want to make it right."

"What did my sister say?"

"She cursed me," Robb looked away. "She shouted, claiming that you would aid her in running away before allowing her to wed me."

"Truth be told, I have it in mind to saddle a horse for her," he confessed. "Your Grace, if I may. No one yet knows of this. It is simple thing to correct this, other than marriage. Perhaps you could wed her to one of your Lords' sons, maybe even Harrion Karstark. She was promised already to Torrhen. Maybe if..."

"Out of the question," Robb shook his head.

"The relationship with Lord Karstark needs to be repaired, so I've heard," Jory stated. "And if I'm allowed to speak my mind, your Grace, Lord Karstark has lost two sons. Perhaps allowing Harrion to wed Nysa in Torrhen's place might give him some..."

"What will happen to her when they discover there was no maiden's blood? Not to mention that Harrion is his only son and heir. Having her wed Torrhen - his third-born son - is one thing. Harrion is another matter."

Jory couldn't answer that. He knew that Lord Karstark had granted Torrhen permission to pursue a betrothal with Nysa. But if he was aware of her indiscretion there may not be a place for Nysa in Lord Karstark's good graces.

"She'd hardly go to anyone else."

"Have you thought of nothing else," Jory asked.

"I cannot pass her off to another that easily. This is the only way."

Jory sighed and looked away. He didn't want this and he was damn sure that Nysa was now regretting her actions. But what else could he do, other than to saddle a horse and help her escape to Winterfell? What the King spoke of is true, there was no way to hide that her lack of innocence. They would know in the morning when there was no blood on the sheets. Lord Karstark would think that he was tricked. Any one of Robb's Lords would think they were tricked. That wouldn't repair anything.

Gods, Jory cursed internally. He told her. Seven hells, he told her this would happen.

* * *

Jon had never met Alysane Mormont before. Unlike Nysa, he did not have the privilege of being sent to Bear Island for a moon or two. Granted Nysa was sent there because his father wanted her to create friends with House Mormont. Despite his lack of travel to Bear Island, he did meet Maege Mormont and three of her daughters, Dacey, Lyra and Jorelle however. They had attended a feast that was held at Winterfell a couple years back. Lyra and Nysa were close friends by then. And on more than one occasion Lyra was pushed to dance with Jon during that feast. He danced with her because she was pretty and smiled at him but mostly because her mother had looked impressive - like she could cut down any man she wanted to.

Now, Jon couldn't help but think that if he had met Alysane, she'd force Jon to do more than dance and he wouldn't be able to stop it. Alysane Mormont held the same charm that he had seen on Dacey and Lyra. Beyond that charm, there was also a fierce determination set upon her brow as she lifted it at him.

 _"House Mormont isn't a grand House, is it," asked Sansa one night at sup._

 _"Sansa," Lady Catelyn chided her._

 _"I think they're a grand House," Robb added._

 _"What makes them grand," Sansa looked over to their father._

 _"It's their loyalty."_

 _All of their heads turned to Nysa who sat at the end of the table with Ser Rodrik. She shied away from the attention and looked down, an apology on her lips at interrupting their conversation but his father didn't correct her. Instead he gestured for her to continue. Nysa played with a piece of bread before shifting in her chair to face them._

 _"House Mormont has been loyal to House Stark before there were Kings of the North. When House Stark ruled as the Kings of Winter, House Mormont has pledged their fealty." She paused and looked up to his father who nodded._

 _Lord Eddard Stark glanced about the room, drawing the attention of all his children, including the young Bran who sat curled upon Lady Catelyn's lap. Robb and Jon had heard this now and then but their father was going to repeat it again. Ensuring he had Sansa, Arya and even young Bran's eyes on him, he cleared his throat. "Their lands may be cold but their hearts are not. That is what makes House Mormont rich," his father firmly stated, "their fierce pride and their unwavering loyalty."_

Jon had heard that Alysane Mormont flew Mormont as well Stark banners on the acquired Ironborn ships, declaring them for his brother. But would she accept his command to defend the North? He looked to Osric who glanced at Jon and shook his head. He'd receive no help there to face this fierce woman-warrior.

Alysane dismounted from her horse and nodded to Harmund Umber. "Deepwood Motte stands free of Ironborn, I hear."

"And the North has gained a couple ships from what I hear," Harmund laughed before gesturing towards Osric. "It's been a long time, Alysane. This is my nephew, Osric, Jon's second son."

"It seems that second sons are here to protect their homes these days," Alysane smiled, glancing quickly at Jon before looking at Osric. "What are your plans, Osric Umber?"

Osric made a face and then turned to Jon expectantly. "It was Jon's decision to come here to Deepwood Motte. It is Jon's decision to defend the shores of the North from the Ironborn. And once we secure that, it will be..."

"Let me guess," Alysane interjected, "it will be Jon's decision." Jon winced a little at the tone of her voice but couldn't help but smile a bit at remembering his father's words about House Momont's determined pride. "There is no need to pretend that I like this situation of you being in command. Granted," she stepped forward, "it has nothing to do with you being a Snow but everything to do with you breaking your vow. My cousin was considered a traitor and your father..."

"I am no traitor," Jon spoke up, silence falling on the small gathering. "And neither is my father," he added. "The men at the Wall served there under the ruling order of the King of the Seven Kingdoms. The moment King Joffrey murdered my father, he no longer became my King. My allegiance is not to a boy King who would execute loyal and honorable men such as my father. I made a vow to protect the people of the Seven Kingdoms, but that was when there was no King in the North. I broke a vow, yes. Like my father before me, I will stand before the ruling King and receive my judgement. If my brother wants my head then so be it. Until then, I will do all I can to continue to protect the North and the people in it."

Alysane continued her approach to meet Jon. He glanced nervously at Osric who side-stepped out of her way. His heart hammering in his chest, waiting as she came to a stop and slowly grinned.

"Well said, Jon Snow."

* * *

Nysa threw the doors open, marched up to Robb and slapped him across his face. She had never been so angry in her life. "How dare you tell everyone!"

"I would not want to dishonor you," Robb shouted back at her.

"Perhaps we should give his Grace some privacy," Lord Umber made to stand but the other Lords looked intently at their King and his soon to be wife.

"I think you dishonored me enough by informing my brother that you bed me last night," Nysa yelled at Robb with little disregard for how many of his Lords were still present. "Then I hear from your mother," she snarled, "that you were about to inform your council of your plans to wed me now! You and I spoke about this earlier! You are to wed Lord Frey's daughter!"

"And if you are with child, my child," he questioned.

"I would have gone to drink moon tea!"

Robb's anger began to grow. "You'd kill my child?" Nysa opened her mouth to answer but he continued on. "You'd do it gladly too, wouldn't you? All because it would be my child that you carry instead of Torrhen's," he snarled.

Lord Karstark was still in the room as well. And as bitter as he had felt when they heard Robb had bedded her, he had a small smile of satisfaction at seeing that she was attempting to persuade him away from wedding her. It seemed as though to him, she still belonged to Torrhen.

"This has nothing to do with Torrhen," Nysa replied. "What happened last night was between you and me. You did not need to tell everyone!"

"I'm glad that I did because now I hope they stop you from murdering my child!"

Nysa shook her head. "It was merely suggested so that you would not need to wed me."

"And have you walk throughout camp with the men believing you to be my whore," he shouted.

"No one would have known that you bedded me if you had just kept your mouth shut!"

"I am trying to do what is right by you!"

"The right thing would have been to send me away from your bed!"

"Odd," he smiled then as he stepped closer towards her. "I heard no objection from you last night."

"Why you arrogant fool! You took my honor gladly knowing that that was the only way to wed me," Nysa shouted. "You know Torrhen would never have done such a thing!"

"You compare me to that oaf? You must not know of the women he had back in Karhold," Robb shouted at her.

"I did know, believe me I saw them!"

Harrion Karstark stood next to his father. Harrion had known about the incident that happened in Torrhen's room. He thought Nysa's departure was a bit abrupt as seeing that she did not wait for Torrhen to return from his hunt. She usually always made sure to bid him farewell. And of course, he would not be an older brother unless he had asked Torrhen what happened. Eddard had said that he should have just taken her maidenhead, kept her at Karhold and wed her. But Torrhen had insisted that she deserved more than that. He knew what Nysa said was correct, Torrhen would have sent her away from his bed.

"And yet you still wish that it was _him_ who you would wed?"

"I never said that," she sounded exasperated.

"You do not need to voice your feelings when it is written all over your face that you had rather have him than me!" Nysa again tried to argue but he marched past her. "You still love him. You said so yourself yesterday. But that does not erase the fact that we lay together and now I am the one who will make it right! I will wed Lady Nysa this afternoon," he announced one more time to all the Lords present. "And I would appreciate it if everyone was there to witness it!"

"You're making a mistake, your Grace," Nysa turned around to face him. "Lord Frey," she voiced her concern. "He will not take kindly to you upon hearing that the betrothal to his daughter has been broken."

"Everyone has been telling me about that," Robb growled. "I will deal with Lord Frey later. I am still your King," he looked about the room. "You chose me, fight for me, support me," he reminded them. "You will also support my decisions and this is final."

"Robb," Nysa took another step forward, pleading desperately.

"You and I will wed before the evening and that will be the end of it!"

He left the room. Nysa wanted to march up to him and continue their arguing. Jory had been the one to stop her. She may have physically been unable to leave the room but Nysa allowed her voice to depart. She shouted and screamed at how infuriated she was at Robb. She cursed him and vowed that she'd find moon tea somewhere in Harrenhal. She said things about him wanting Torrhen dead so that she could belong to him. She accused Robb of many a thing - even not loving her at all.

It did not help that all his Lords had seen their argument. A few of them could also see that their King's marriage was not going to be starting out as a pleasant one and were not the least bit upset about that. It served the young Wolf right to have such a wife.

And what a wife she was proving she'd make.

She showed up at the Sept, scowling in contempt that he had not chose to wed her in the Godswood. Nysa had ripped the cloak from Robb's hands and put it on herself. He had been so angry by her display that he kissed her harshly before the Septon could utter a word at her actions. It was not like their usual kisses. This was aggressive and full of bitterness. She finally pushed back causing Robb to stumble. He lifted his hand to his lip. She had bit him and drawn blood. There were mutters through the crowd as she turned away and faced the Septon.

"Well, go on," she barked at him.

The Septon looked shocked for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and nodded towards the two of them. "My Lords and Ladies, we stand here in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul now and forever," he began as Nysa scoffed.

"Forever is a very long time, your Grace," she said softly to Robb.

"It has already been decided," Robb growled, taking a hold of her hand as the Septon took a step towards them with the ribbon.

Nysa shook her head. "There is still time to get out..."

"No, there is not," he squeezed her hand.

As if to emphasize his words, the Septon began to talk, tying both hers and Robb's hands together. Robb looked over at her and she turned to him as well. "Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder," the Septon continued. "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls binding them as one for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words," he encouraged as Robb pulled her to turn her body towards his.

Nysa closed her eyes once they both had finished talking. From this day until the end of days, she thought as she felt Robb lean in and kiss her cheek. "I pledge my love," he whispered as she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

She didn't look up when they turned to face the Lords who were present. She could have done more to have prevented it. But now it was done.

 _"If I did not hold you in such high regard, I would have bedded you and wed in a simple, secret ceremony. That simply would not do because you are worth more than that, you are worth it to me."_

Torrhen's words echoed in her mind as she took in the hall around her. Harrenhal, she snorted. Her wedding feast was in Harrenhal. And from what it looked like it could have passed for a simple wedding. A few courses were prepared - the maids in the kitchen had made sure of it. It was a King's wedding after all. They even had a cake where Nysa smiled softly and lifted up a piece for Robb to eat.

She was quiet throughout the entire evening. Robb didn't like it. The more time passed though, the more it sunk in that they were wed. A part of her - the girl who had sneaked off to sleep in his bed or kissed him out in the woods - was happy. But that was only so small and the rest of her felt frustrated with herself and with Robb.

 _"I did not want to treat you as though you were a serving maid or a bastard girl. You are so much more than that to me, Nysa. I wanted to bed you as my wife."_

He could have sent her away as Torrhen had. Robb had pleaded that she stay with him, talk with him. It was his confounded idea that they hide under the table and talk. She felt alone, he was alone. But that didn't mean they were ready to jump into bed with one another. Why couldn't she listen to Jory? Why did she stop outside the door? As upset as she was at Robb, she had no one to blame but herself.

"To the King and Queen," the Greatjon shouted.

More than half the room cheered, even the few Freys who were present. She dared not to look up at the Karstark table. Feeling some of the guards of House Karstark narrow their eyes at her was unsettling. She was certain that this was not the wedding they had in mind. Nysa silently agreed. Because Torrhen had described her wedding - _their_ wedding.

 _"You should have your brother walk you to the Godswood, place your hand in mine while we stood in front of the heart tree. We would have grand wedding and a lavish feast where my brothers and the other men would fight to dance with you, my beautiful bride."_

Furiously wiping a tear away from her eyes, she realized that this wedding couldn't have been more wrong. No one had fought to dance with her. The only acknowledgement from House Karstark - other than the stares - was when Harrion had nodded to her as Jory led her down to Robb. She didn't need to guess at Lord Karstark's thoughts either. It was obvious that he was not the least bit pleased. She had professed her love for Torrhen when they first came to Harrenhal and now she was wedding another - all because her beloved was dead.

She knew exactly what they were all thinking of her and it was not encouraging her the least bit. Some Queen she was turning out to be, she snorted as she sipped her wine. Nysa almost felt like Cersei Lannister.

"I know what your thoughts are," Lady Stark said from beside her. "The men love you. They may not agree with what is happening but in time..."

"In time we will see the damage of our actions," Nysa replied. "I should have made Jory saddle a horse and run away."

"I will go with you," Arya replied.

"No, you will not," Lady Stark turned to her.

"I want to stay and help. Instead I'm being sent back to Winterfell, like some child," she stabbed the table with a knife. "And it is all because of Robb."

"I want the two of you to behave," Catelyn said in a stern tone. "One of you is the King's sister and the other is now his wife," she looked at Nysa. "He needs the support of his kin."

"I didn't want this," Nysa muttered.

"One should have thought about the consequences of such an action beforehand," Catelyn admonished her.

Nysa looked up guiltily at her. "Robb was upset. I wanted to comfort him, be there for him. We were only supposed to talk and then..."

"I know I raised you better than that. You gave into the charms of a man, Nysa. You were supposed to guard yourself, protect yourself against such a thing. I taught you that. Lady Mariah and Lady Sarra taught you that." She leaned forward to drink her wine. "I'm sure that my husband taught you that as well."

Nysa closed her eyes, feeling properly reprimanded and nodded. "You did. You all did."

"Last night was foolish but it had to be corrected. And now there's nothing to be done."

"Did you at least try to talk him out of it," Nysa turned back to her.

"Don't you think I've tried that," she questioned, her voice growing louder and impatient. Nysa swallowed a breath and turned away. "Robb has made his love for you obvious from the start, ever since the betrothal to Lord Frey's daughter. I knew he'd act with his heart instead of his head. But you," she shook her head at Nysa. "I always thought you had more sense."

"I'm sorry."

"You need to stop apologizing. Speaking about remorse for your actions won't erase it. Last night is done and over with. This afternoon is done and over with. You are his _wife_ and you will behave as such. Do you understand, Nysa?"

"Yes, Lady Catelyn," Nysa mumbled.

Catelyn softened a bit at Nysa's depressing tone and reached out to touch the young woman's shoulder. "I have always thought of you as a daughter, if you hadn't known it by now. You were such a joy to have in Winterfell, to see you grow and learn and thrive," she smiled slowly. "I was so proud of how you helped my daughters, so appreciative of everything. But now," she removed her hand. "I am disappointed by your actions, both of you. But that doesn't mean that you can't make it right."

She shook her head and tried to blink away the tears. "How can I right a wrong when we are already wed? I know no way to annul this. And we were wed in a Sept! What do I do to make this right?"

"By being a Queen," was the reply.

"I don't understand."

"Some of the Lords, the guards, the soldiers - they respect you. Ned made sure of that. You and Jon weren't mistreated in anyway. He wanted you to," she paused and took a deep breath. "You owe it to my husband, to me, to House Stark and to the rest of the North to be a strong, merciful, loving and fearless Queen. You know the people, Nysa. Rule over them, now. And you know Robb. Care for him, protect him, guide him," Lady Catelyn advised. "You both will need it."

Nysa nodded.

"I want no more mistakes, do you hear me," Lady Catelyn asked her. "No more foolishness," she demanded as Nysa nodded again. "Starting tomorrow you will go to every meeting Robb has with his Lords, you will ensure that every one of them is heard. You will not show them weakness or tolerate insults of any kind. But you will do that in a gentle manner, befitting a Queen. I've raised you with all the courtesies of a Lady, you need to use them."

"Robb will want to send me back to Winterfell once it is safe. How can I..."

"Convince him you need to stay here with him. He needs an heir."

"I could very well be carrying his child now. Last night..."

"There aren't many ladies who are fortunate enough to conceive in one night. Though," she paused and took another sip of her wine, "Robb was conceived in one night. It could be possible that the two of you are able to do the same as Ned and I. Until you are certain, you will stay by his side." Nysa nodded. "Another thing that you will need to do is choose a Lord or two that will be your main supporters, someone who you can look to for advice and someone who will be able to take your advice to council meetings when you are gone."

"Lord Karstark," she said quickly.

"Good choice," Lady Catelyn nodded. "Let him know that he is not forgotten. He," she paused and looked towards the table, "he was angry with me the most when the Kingslayer was released. I'm sure that the two of you can find some common ground." Nysa opened her mouth to reply but Lady Catelyn shook her head. "Moving on, you will then choose a lady or two to serve as your female companions."

"Jayne Bracken," Nysa named the young woman who she had met while they were under the Lannister's care.

"Of House Bracken," she looked surprised at this.

"She will know the concerns of the Riverlords. That is what you desire for me to understand, isn't it," Nysa looked expectantly at Lady Catelyn who nodded. "I'm also choosing her because she has a strong spirit and is rather stubborn," Nysa bit back a laugh. "When we first met, she was suspicious of me but I believe that after what we've been through, Jayne will help me."

"Excellent," Lady Catelyn responded. "There's still much work to do in gaining the people's respect and admiration. Robb does that on the battlefield, you need to do that everywhere else, understand?"

"Forgive me for asking Lady Catelyn," she turned towards her, "but it appears as though you were ready for this sort of thing, about becoming a Queen."

A flustered look appeared on Catelyn's face as the young woman narrowed her eyes at her.

 _"Of course they already made demands about her marriage."_

 _Catelyn looked at the bed then back at her husband. "They have arranged a marriage for her so soon? Now who is using her as a pawn," she huffed in annoyance._

 _"I understand their feelings on the matter. They love their sister. I know the lengths a brother will go through to save what they have left of that sister," Ned commented, thinking of Lyanna. Catelyn lifted her hand to his face and he smiled. "I have assured them of how their sister's daughter will be safe."_

 _"There is more to this than just keeping her safe though," Catelyn moved her hand. "What I told Jory still stands," she nodded, "Nysa must be raised to be a Lady. She will learn to read and write, dance, sew. She will need to take lessons with the Septa I brought from the Riverlands. And Nysa should be educated about the noble Houses, everything that is proper."_

 _"I do not know of such things. You'll be in charge of that."_

But how much could she tell this young woman about that? Catelyn reached out for another sip of her wine and tried to think of how to proceed, before turning towards Nysa with a small smile. "I had hoped to be there for Sansa when she became Queen, so I studied and read, had Maester Luwin show me examples of previous Queens." Nysa's face relaxed at the mention of Sansa.

"Forgive me, my Lady. I'm sorry about what Sansa's betrothal coming to an end. It must be..."

Lady Catelyn patted her arm reassuringly. "Can you keep a secret," she smiled and Nysa nodded. "I never wanted her to wed Joffrey. I thought her just a little bit too young and he just," she waved her hand, "well he is just a little bit of every bad word isn't he?" The two of them shared a laugh and it was nice for Catelyn to see that their bond was growing once more. "We'll need to work on getting Sansa back. That will always be at the forefront," she reminded Nysa.

"Robb wants to take Casterly Rock. He thinks Tywin will bargain that for Sansa. And of course if," Nysa paused and looked towards the tables full of Robb's Lords and men before inching closer to Lady Catelyn. "If Lord Tyrion allows Sansa to return in exchange for the Kingslayer then this will be over quicker than we anticipated."

Catelyn's heart constricted at the though of Nysa acknowledging her actions. She smiled before turning away and looked out at the men. If they had heard Nysa's comment, Catelyn was certain that all respect Nysa had gained previously would be wasted. She took her good-daughter's hand and squeezed it under the table. There was a small moment of silence before Nysa turned back towards her.

"What else is there to do?"

"You will also need to think about making amends with House..."

"I'd like to make a toast to Queen Nysa Stark!"

The two of them turned to see Ser Stevron Frey standing with his cup held out in the air.

From both of their expressions, including Robb's and a few northmen - it was obvious that no one expected House Frey to speak up and offer their congratulations. Nysa felt Jory slide in behind her chair, a hand on his sword. Despite the tension that radiated in the atmosphere, Ser Stevron still smiled lightly. The older knight looked around at the table where he stood - at his brothers, sons and nephews. It was clear that he didn't speak for all of them at the moment. Regardless, Robb nodded in his direction.

"I know you are not the Stark Queen we want sitting there," he chuckled nervously. A few of the other Lords began to mutter, causing Nysa to look down in shame. Robb's hand reached over and took a hold of her other hand. "I also know there is no one else I would trust with my life."

Nysa and Robb looked back towards Ser Stevron in shock yet again.

"When we met, you were only a maiden who risked her life to feed us while we were imprisoned. You brought extra furs, tended to our injuries and eased our suffering for just a while. I do not know what I or any of us would have done if we didn't have that second fur to keep us warm, bread to put in our bellies or herbs to clean our wounds. I saw a brave young woman care for men who served her King."

Ser Stevron nodded towards another table on the far side.

"I heard about the way this young woman protected Lord Bracken's daughters and kept young Lord Lyman Darry safe. She was threatened and subjected to physical harm in order to do so. She was loyal to our King, protecting his sister, obtaining Harrenhal and killing the Mountain."

"Aye!"

"Queen Stark," a chorus of shouts and cheers sounded through the hall.

"You displayed a strength and tenderness that is needed," Ser Stevron looked at her. "You were self-sacrificing, patient and kind - everything a Queen should be. I pray to the gods that these actions that spoke loudly to your character as a maiden resonates well now that you are a Queen. You have my appreciation and my loyalty," he stated firmly. "To the Queen!"

"To the Queen," Danwell Frey added as he stood.

"Aye," Hosteen Frey did as well, "to the Queen!"

Someone had shouted about the bedding and Lord Roose Bolton had scoffed at the entire tradition, saying that there was no need to have one.

"She's already been bedded," Lord Bolton slammed his cup down.

"Aye, I have bedded her," Robb stood. "But remember now that she is my wife, making her your Queen. There will be no more talk on that matter. Now," he held his hand for her. "My wife and I will be retiring for the night. Enjoy the festivities, my Lords."

A few of them cheered - no doubt because of their drunkedness, Nysa thought - while others simply nodded or grunted in apprehension. She glanced over at Lady Catelyn and saw her simply nod - the subtle hint that Robb would need an heir. She could do this. Then again, it's not like the process of child-making was a burden to bear. Robb had made it enjoyable for her. Her hand rested on his arm as he led her back to the room. In that moment she realized that she couldn't bring herself to love Robb tonight. All the thoughts of Torrhen were striking her as though they were arrows aimed at her heart.

She turned to him once they entered the room - desiring to talk. Instead she found him undressing himself.

"What do you think you are doing," Nysa's voice sounded furious.

Robb pulled back a bit. Was she going to deny him on his wedding night?

"You have already bedded me! You let everyone know about it, too," she gestured to the door. "No one is going to question whether our marriage has been consumated or not. So, I suggest we do as you stated, your grace. We are retiring for the night," she jabbed a finger at his shoulder before turning away from him.

Nysa had no idea why she was suddenly angry. Did he expect her to lay there every night and allow him to have his way with her? She was his wife and that was her duty. He did need an heir. But tonight, right now, she wanted to talk about their marriage. There had to be some sort of communication that was peaceable - especially on this day. They had been yelling at one another since she woke up in his arms - in his bed.

Robb stepped forward, attempting to wrap his arms around her. "Nysa, are you truly going to deny..."

"Yes," she pushed him back.

For a moment they stared at one another, neither one of them willing to back. Robb looked at her, frustration in her eyes and a tension in her body he wanted to erase. "You asked me last night to make you feel loved. I can do that every night, just let me," he said softly. The power of his words resonated in her. Robb took a tentative step forward again and leaned down to capture her lips - gently this time as they had the night before.

His hands slid down her waist and slowly began to untie her dress. He pressed kisses from her face, down her neck, between the valley of her breasts until he knelt and reached her waist. He lifted the hem of her gown up her legs and dragged his tongue and lips from her knee, onto her thigh and towards her center. Nysa gasped at the sensation and reached out to grab Robb's shoulders in order to steady herself.

"Just this night," she whispered.

* * *

Lord Karstark slammed his cup down and got up from the hall, leaving his son looking on. His son, he thought bitterly. Nysa had been betrothed to _his son_ and she had thrown him away for a night with the King. He walked down the empty halls, away from the raucous of the wedding feast.

"Your son is barely cold in his grave and she beds another."

Lord Karstark wiped a hand across his face at the voice inside his head. Although, it wasn't someone speaking from within his mind. Steps behind him, alerted him to another's presence. He was not alone. He looked back to see if his son had come after him.

There stood Lord Roose Bolton, a solemn expression on his face.

* * *

Osric's horse came to settle in next to Jon's as they rode away from Stony shore. Many of the villages were raided, women were raped and their men were either beaten or dead. They were heading back through the wolfswood to march onto Winterfell. Jon knew the wolfswood - he grew up playing in them. This was the better route for them to take. After witnessing the raids of Stony shore, he was all the more determined to head to Winterfell. Who knew what awaited him there?

Lady Glover had allowed men from House Forrester, Branch and Woods to accompany Jon along the coast and back in to Winterfell. With the additional men, Jon knew they would find Theon and hang him from the castle's walls. Perhaps he would allow Ghost to dine on his body.

"I understand your anger," Osirc told him as another horse came to ride alongside them.

"He was like a brother. The raids on the villages are one thing. To know that the people in Winterfell might have suffered the same," Jon shook his head.

Ronnel Woods - Lord Woods second-born son - twirled his ax in his hand and looked up at the trees. "Do you see that bird there, Jon Snow," he asked. "She will hear the cries of other young birds, birds without their mothers and she takes them in. Shelters them, keeps them warm. But when the storm comes and her chicks need food. They're the first to go."

"What is the point of your story," Osric asked.

Ronnel looked to them as their horses came to a halt. "The lost chick might eat her own. That is why she gets rid of them. Once in a while, the lost chick does take over her nest. I've seen it when we would hunt."

"Are you saying we should have kicked Theon out of Winterfell before any of this happened?"

"No," Ronnel shook his head. "I'm saying that whether Lord Stark took him in or not, he still was not family. He never was. And when the storm came, he knew who to get rid of."

* * *

Nothing prepared Nysa for Robb's assault on her senses. They both lay naked on the bed. She felt wonderfully alive, every nerve on her skin tingling as heat swept through her toes and up to her head. Robb's tongue traced the curves of her breast before teasing a nipple. Her breath was ragged and her vision becoming disoriented. This was so much more than last night. And when Robb bit down gently she pushed him away from.

"There's nothing wrong with what we're doing here, Nysa," he assured her.

"Why can't you just..."

Robb silenced her with a searing kiss. There was no way this was going to be like the night before. He's make sure that she felt every thrill that could be had from sharing his bed. "There's nothing to be ashamed of by enjoying your husband and receiving pleasure," his breath was hot against her skin.

Nysa slid her palms down his chest over his flat abdomen, tearing a groan from his lips and making her smile. Their kisses become light again as she let her fingers explore the muscles of her husband, her King. A surge of power ran through her, turning up her arousal. Robb moved from her lips and began to nuzzle at her breasts again. He whispered pretty compliments against her skin. His tone was soft, causing her to become greedy. She didn't want all this sparkling pleasure to stop. With a determination she didn't know she had she slid her hands down to Robb's manhood, taking his cock in her hand.

"Nysa," Robb growled.

He seemed to swell in her hand. She tilted her head to lick at his shoulder just as he had done earlier. Nysa moved her hand up and down his cock as she continued to bite and lick at his skin that was within her reach. Robb cursed and pushed her further into the bed. He couldn't take much more. He was so aroused that it was painful. Arousal was already bubbling through her veins at the look of pure passion on Robb's face. The heat from their bodies sending jolts from one to the other.

This time when he entered her she spread her legs in readiness. He pressed forward slowly and gently. She lifted her hips, letting them sway with his. Shivers of pleasure ran straight to her core with each motion, drawing a moan from both of them. Soon his pace grew faster and rougher, encouraged on by her sighs and moans. He was now her husband. Robb, her King. She had become his wife. Nysa, Robb's Queen.

Mine, Robb thought as he thrust deeply into Nysa. Not Torrhen's, he shouted in his head as her nails dug into his shoulder. Nysa is mine, another rough push into her sent her screaming his name. He grunted and buried his head in the crook of her neck, his teeth nibbling the flesh there as everything tightened around him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

"So, this is Winterfell," asked Ronnel Woods.

"It used to be," Jon muttered as they stood outside the gates.

"It still is, Jon," Osric told him.

"The last time I saw this place, it was full of life. Guards and villagers lined up along the stables and waved from the on top the walls," Jon described his departure. "My father was riding South to serve as Hand of the King. My sister, Sansa, sat on a wagon and waved back at her mother. My brother Robb stood in the yard, wearing a new cloak and a grin befitting a Lord. Nysa sat on a horse not too far in front of me, next to Torrhen Karstark. He had asked for her hand and didn't want her to leave until she knew how he cared for her."

Jon snorted and then shook his head.

"Arya," he sighed. "Arya was riding behind Jory Cassel. She was both excited and cautious about her journey and," he looked towards Osric, "and also mine. I pray we could go back," he confessed.

"No one knows if things would have changed," Ronnel counseled Jon. "Perhaps everyone would have stayed here in the North, perhaps they would have left to go South. There is no sense in dwelling on the past, Jon Snow. All one can do is deal with what is in front of us right now."

Jon nodded in understanding as the men continued into the castle. A few of the guards who had come with Ronnel, lifted their bows and studied the scene, determining if there were any stragglers left behind from the Ironborn's raids. They found none, only dead bodies.

Ronnel stated that he and a few men would venture inside, ahead of Jon, to make sure the castle was free. Jon looked around to see the stables in shambles. He rode his horse towards one of the open gates, peering inside at a frightened mare.

"Ghost," Jon commanded, encouraging Ghost to continue on in the inspection of Winterfell.

He got off of his horse and walked inside, reaching out his gloved hand to calm the mare. His heart ached as her head went back and forth and she entreated farther into the stall. Jon took off his glove and gently raised his hand to the mare. It took some coaxing but she finally came forward. Her hooves beat the floor beneath him and that's when he noticed the ash and oil that coated the ground. Anger bubbled up from deep within at the thought that Theon and whomever he had brought with him had intended to burn the stables and the horses within.

Jon turned his head at another sound and looked over at the charred wood around him. Outside he could hear Osric giving some of his men orders to search out for wounded and keep on the lookout for any Ironborn draining as though he were far from Jon. Within the stalls of his father's horses his ears narrowed in on a small, hurt-filled whimper.

He ducked underneath a fallen beam, groaning as the movement caused him some discomfort. Whoever was hiding in here was rather small. Anxious and praying to the gods that it wasn't a child that the Ironborn harmed in here, he hurried himself, pushing through the remnants of chaos as he found himself in the same stall as a small figure, curled in a ball.

"Leave me alone," the voice cried.

It was that of a young girl. Her voice carrying all the pain that Jon felt. His fists tightened at the thoughts that roared around in his head about how Theon had betrayed them, murdered people in Winterfell and left death and hurt in his wake. He knelt down, peering through her dirty hair.

"Beth," Jon mumbled her name.

She looked up with wide eyes and shook her head in disbelief. "Jon?" He moved towards her but she screamed in agony. "No, you can't be here. They're just playing tricks on me. Theon is playing a trick on me."

"Beth, it's alright. It's me. It's Jon," he raised his hand slowly towards her face as she shrunk back into her corner.

"My father. He killed my father."

"I know. I heard," Jon replied softly.

"He killed Bran and Rickon, hung their bodies at the gate."

Jon shook his head. "We didn't see any body at the gate."

"He killed them, I'm telling you," she shouted, drawing up the hay around her as though it were a protective shield.

"Okay, I believe you," he whispered. "He must have taken the bodies down before he left."

"He didn't leave," Beth shook her head. "I heard the horns outside. He didn't leave!"

"What horns, Beth?"

"The Ironborn," she looked up and began to shrink back once more, wariness and suspicion in her eyes.

Jon turned to look at what she saw. Osric stood there, confused at the young girl as well. He nodded towards Beth as if questioning who she was, if Jon could share her story. Jon turned back to Beth again, trying to coax her out.

"Beth, everything is okay now. Do you hear me? I've brought men from House Glover, House Umber, House Woods and House Forrester. We're going to..."

"No," Beth screamed and wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees. "My father had soldiers too. House Tallhart, House Karstark and House Hornwood," she listed. "They couldn't stop Theon. They couldn't," she shook her head and looked away.

"I know," he nodded. "And your father is one of the bravest men I know. He taught me how to use a sword. And I'm going to do everything that I can to avenge him, to avenge Winterfell, to bring justice to Theon for his betrayal. Come with me, inside."

She shook her head violently. "I don't want to go back to my room or my father's. Please don't ask me to..."

"Okay, okay," he soothed. "You can go back to Nysa's old room. How would you like the sound of that? You can rest in your cousin's room." Beth looked up and bit her bottom lip, still uncertain. "I'm sure Nysa won't mind it one bit," he tried to smile.

Jon held out his hand one last time and watched as Beth slowly extended her shaky hand towards his.

* * *

After seeing that Beth was settled in Nysa's room, Jon left with Osric. One of Ronnel's men had come to find Osric, informing him that they had found a couple more people alive - wounded but alive. He looked at the ruins around him, tables overturned, food left out and curtains ripped apart. He could hear the cries of help, the pleas for mercy from the people he knew in Winterfell. But what struck him the most was that he did not hear his brothers, could not and probably never would hear their voices again.

"Jon!"

He turned his head as a young boy came running towards him. It was Cayn's son. Sometimes he would spot the boy with Nysa. She'd do that often, take in the children of guards who went to assist her Uncle or brother. He patted the young boy's head before settling his hands on the boy's shoulders and easing him back.

"Are you alright?"

An eager bobbing of the boy's head was his answer.

"How many are alive? Are they are other guards here in Winterfell?"

The boy shook his head. "I do not know. We heard horns. I was playing with Tom when Raya told us to hide."

"Beth said something about the horns, too. Do you know what they were?"

Again, the boy shook his head. "The Ironborn were out in the yard. I think they said it was Northmen. But I wasn't sure because there was still screaming and shouting."

"Northmen, were outside," Jon pointed to the window.

"I don't know," the boy pouted before scrunching up his face in frustration. It was obvious he wanted to explain to Jon what had happened but couldn't.

"It's alright," Jon put a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you were told to do. You went and hid."

"These two were with him," Ronnel gestured for his men to bring forth two more little boys.

One of them was TomToo, Fat Tom's son, and Turnip, cook's son. Both boys looked scared as they eyed the men wearily. Seeing Jon put them at ease. But it was obvious that they weren't very trusting.

"Your father," Jon asked Turnip who looked down and shook his head in response. "Take the boys to my room. It's a turn away from Nysa's," he looked to Osric who nodded. "I don't think any of them have ventured outside," he said to Ronnel. "And I want everything cleared before they do," Jon commanded, remembering Beth's sobbing at seeing the dead bodies around the yard.

They filed out, slowly. Cayn's son looked back at Jon, giving him a nod before dashing forward to Osric.

One of the guards from House Umber stepped forward sometime later to inform Jon that the bodies were carried outside and he would make sure that they were buried. A few of the men who were wounded were taken to one of the towers. Jon did not know much on how to tend to wounded men, that was Nysa's job. He sighed and thought about her - thought about her fallen Uncle and her weeping cousin - then prayed that wherever she was and whatever she was doing, she was safe and well.

* * *

"Lord Karstark," Nysa spoke up from her chair next to Robb's. Robb turned to look at her in surprise. She had been quiet throughout the entire meeting with his Lords - despite her obvious disagreement with their decisions. "You have been awfully quiet. Do you have any suggestions for us?"

"None that our King may like," Lord Karstark answered sharply.

The corner of Nysa's lips twitched up in a smile and she nodded. "What about our Queen?" Lord Karstark looked up at her and she nodded, urging him to share his opinion. Lady Catelyn sat in from the back of the room and hid a smile on her face. Robb may not approve of Nysa speaking out but it would gain his Lords' respect.

"I received this raven from my wife," he pulled a parchment from his sleeve, "the Ironborn are raiding the North, taking more than just Winterfell."

"She fears for her safety and that of Alys," Nysa nodded. "That is understandable."

"Some of my men have gone down to Torrhen's Square," Lord Karstark added, "along with men from House Manderly, Tallhart and Hornwood," he nodded towards Daryn Hornwood. "But they failed. She received news that the Ironborn had taken them."

"And no news yet of Winterfell," Nysa turned towards Lord Bolton, "I thought we would have received a raven from your son by now."

"The only news I've received from the North is to inform me that Jon Snow has broken his vow and deserted the Wall," Lord Bolton stated.

Lady Catelyn gasped in surprise as this news was delivered. Robb's hand stilled on the table before clenching into a fist. Nysa glanced over towards him and sighed heavily. It was obvious that many of them hadn't known and she wondered how that was possible. Surely, there would have been some raven, some news that would have reached them from the North.

"You don't seem all that much surprised, my Queen," Lord Bolton lifted his brow at Nysa.

"While we being held by the Lannisters," she began, "Jon was the topic of one of their meetings."

"You sat in Lord Tywin Lannister's council meetings," he questioned, looking back towards one of the Frey men. "We were wondering how they got all their information."

"What are you implying, Lord Bolton," Nysa narrowed her eyes at him as a few of the Lords looked back and forth, amongst themselves. "If you are saying that your Queen conspired with Lannister men, then I assure you it might be the last thing you ever say. I do not take kindly to those who accuse me of treason. There was no passing of information. Princess Arya, in disguise, served as a cupbearer to Lord Tywin. And I tended to..."

"That's right," Lord Bolton locked one hand with the other, resting it upon his lap as he turned towards her. "You tended to Lannister men."

Nysa glanced over at Lady Catelyn and saw that this conversation was no longer going in the direction that either of them would have wanted. "Yes, I did. I did what I needed to in order to survive and keep Princess Arya safe. So, I followed the rules of Lord Tywin and cared for the injured. One of them just happened to be Ser Stafford who shared the information that Jon had deserted the Wall. As much as that news shocked me, the Lannisters thought very little of that information."

"And why is that, my Queen," asked Greatjon.

"Because at the same time they received a raven from the Wall, they also received information about Stannis Baratheon sailing towards King's Landing," Nysa answered. "The news of Jon wasn't important at the time."

"Obviously it wasn't important to you either, since you failed to mention it."

"Excuse me, Lord Bolton," Nysa turned towards him.

"Lord Bolton is right," Robb cleared his throat, causing Nysa to look warily at him. "You should have told us about Jon. Instead we had to wait for a raven from the North to inform Lord Bolton while my wife who was tending to Lannister men forgot to mention that little detail?"

Murmurs flooded the room and Lady Catelyn dropped her head. Whatever small piece of respect Nysa had from the Lords was close to slipping from her grasp by that comment made by both Lord Bolton and Robb. Nysa narrowed her eyes at Robb before leaning over. Her voice was soft but angry and she made sure that only he heard her.

"You need me by your side, Robb. Agreeing with Lord Bolton while he discredits your wife is the last thing you want to do, especially to me."

* * *

"The truth is either terrible or boring," Lady Sansa told Shae as they continued to look out on the waters.

"Lovely day for it," a voice interrupted them, causing Shae to turn and look. She thought it the knight, King Joffrey's Kingsguard who had somewhat become her Lady's silent protector while she was here. Instead it was a man that she had seen before, a man who looked positively arrogant with that smile of his as he came to stand near her Lady. "For watching the ships," he gestured.

"Lord Baelish," Lady Sansa stated low.

Shae was new to this handmaiden conspiracy but she could hear a cautious tone under her Lady's demeanor. The intruder glanced down at her, still appearing cordial and gentlemanly.

"Might I speak with Lady Sansa, alone," he asked.

Shae wanted to say 'no'. Something about him, about all men here at the Capital, put her on edge. Instead, she had learned a few things and one of them was to do her Lady's bidding. She turned towards Lady Sansa and silently asked her with one look if that is what Sansa would be comfortable with. One small, inconspicuous nod was her answer and Shae politely stood and retreated down the pier.

There was another person standing at the end and she noticed that while both of the Lannister guards who accompanied them everywhere were gone, she also noticed that the Kingsguard was there in their place. She tilted her at the knight before looking at the woman at the end of the pier. She didn't feel like being in the company of anyone just yet, so stopped a few feet away and turned to watch her Lady and the Lord.

"You're her handmaiden."

Shae sighed and turned to look at the beautiful red-head who had approached her. "Yes," she answered before looking back. "And you're his..."

"I help manage his affairs," the woman answered.

"He's an important person."

"So is she," she replied. "I grew up in the shadow of her father's castle. The day she was born, they rang the bells from sunrise to sunset."

Shae considered this information for a while, she knew that Sansa was important somehow - why else would they be keeping her here? She was about to ask the woman a question, when she continued.

"We've both done well, you and I."

There was an underlying tone, one that instantly made Shae wonder. "Yes?"

"Given where we've started," the woman finished, causing Shae to look at her.

"And where is that?"

The woman didn't look the least bit bothered. "It isn't easy for girls like us, to dig our way out." They were quiet for a moment before both women noticed that the Lord had begun retreating. "Watch out for her."

"I always do."

"Watch out for her with him," she rephrased.

Shae understood the meaning then. It was obvious that the uncomfortable feeling she had earlier was not something to be taken lightly. Tyrion might think her suspicious, especially when it came to another Lord. She couldn't play at the same games that he had, apparently. But she had grown to like Sansa - as naive as she had been. The young woman need protection.

"Are there other men I should be cautious of?"

"What do you mean?"

"Regarding my lady," Shae said quickly as the Lord began to walk closer to them. "What can you tell me about a knight?"

"A knight," she lifted an eyebrow.

"He's one of the Kingsguard but he's taken an interest in Lady Sansa. They share some sort of secret. Something that she won't even tell me. He stands behind us at this very moment. I..."

The red-haired woman put her hand on Shae's. "I'll find out if he's a friend or foe."

"By asking him," Shae nodded towards Lord Baelish.

"Seven hells, no," she smiled. "I have other friends."

* * *

Ravens started to fly into the tower of Winterfell. Alysane Mormont had given a couple ravens to both Lady Glover and to Jon. Harmund Umber had rode through the wolfswood and up towards Last Hearth to send out a raven as well, informing his brother Greatjon of what was happening so that they could get news to their King. They all had some silent agreement that they would leave Jon's fate up to Robb. Watching the ravens up in the tower helped Jon to come to an understanding about his desertion from the Wall.

He was as good as dead the moment he left Castle Black. He knew that ravens were sent out about his desertion. Robb would have received news by now, he thought. Lady Glover's words still echoed in his mind.

 _"Do you really believe that, Jon," Lady Glover asked, "that your father would gladly execute you, his own son?"_

Anxiety and guilt piled on top of one another as Jon sat there, thinking about his father. He was the Lord of Winterfell, head of House Stark and the Warden of the North. He was considered honorable and just by all that he had met. But what Jon had done, was the complete opposite of being honorable. He wouldn't deserve his father's mercy. Now, he would face the King's justice.

A raven squawked, drawing his attention up to the top of the tower. Any moment soon a raven would appear from the Westerlands or Riverlands - wherever it was that Robb was at right now - and they would inform Osric, Harmund, Alysane or even Lady Glover what was to be done with him. He had abandoned his post, broken his vow.

"It was done with the best intentions, wasn't it?"

Jon's head turned sharply to his right and he saw Nysa sitting there next to him. Blinking rapidly, she disappeared. Like a mad man, Jon stuck out his hand and began to swipe the air, wondering where she had gone to. His head looked out again at the sound of Nysa's laughter and that's when he spotted her standing by the tower, leaning against it with a soft smile.

 _"People will judge you by your actions, Jon. Not by your intentions," Nysa told him._

 _Jon paced back and forth. "I know, I know. But I thought that if I announced my intention to wed her, then it would be alright."_

 _"Jon, it was a kiss. Her honor was hardly ever in question with a simple kiss," Nysa shook her head._

 _"I don't even know what came over me."_

 _"Bandy is a pretty girl but we both know that neither she or you are in desire of marriage, especially at thirteen," Nysa grabbed him hand and pulled him away from the stables. "I still can't believe that you walked into the hall informed your father that you dishonored her."_

Jon smiled at the memory of the two of them walking away from Winterfell to hide in the wolfswood. He had innocently kissed Joseth's daughter, believing that he compromised her. And because there was no way he was leaving a young maiden alone, he announced that he'd wed her immediately. Of course, when asked the reason, Jon stated plainly that he had taken her honor. At first the men in the hall, including his father, simply stared at him in bewilderment until Joseth had lunged for Jon in anger. After much discussion, his father had gathered that the two of them had shared a kiss. Jon was young and believed that he had taken her honor. He didn't know.

Of course, it still didn't sit well with Joseth and he had Maester Luwin along with Lady Catelyn assure that the girl's innocence was still intact. She may not have been a high-born but he didn't want Lord Stark's son taking advantage of his daughters. Lord Stark was a just man, a better man, he had said in the hall that day. Surely, Jon wouldn't have used his status as Lord Stark's son to dishonor unsuspecting maidens.

His father had questioned him about it - and though it seemed silly now to remember this story - his father had laughed and slapped Jon on the back.

 _"You had good intentions, my son," his father said, "but your approach on the matter was disastrous."_

He had the very best intentions at heart when he left the Wall - he wanted to avenge his father, protect his sisters, help his brother. _"So they will not love. Love is the death of duty."_ Maester Aemon knew, could see it. That despite taking his vow, despite having a duty to be a brother of the Night's Watch, he still loved his family, he loved them with everything in him. But would this good intention have a disastrous result? Would he meet the end of his life at the hands of his brother?

Another squawk caught his attention up in the tower.

One of the ravens had come early this morning from Lady Glover, informing him that Yara Greyjoy was demanding proof that her brother was alive. Theon was nowhere to be found. As far as Jon knew, the coward had run.

One thought still haunted him, the horns that the boys as well as Beth had spoken about. Where were they from? Who was blowing them? The wildlings hadn't come this far, had they? Had Wildlings driven Theon out of Winterfell?

"Jon," Osric called.

Jon turned his head towards him.

"One of the scouts from House Forrester said there was someone traveling on the Kingsroad from the South."

"Men that our King have sent, perhaps," Jon questioned.

He shook his head. "They say their father sent them," Osric replied.

"Their father," Jon repeated before pushing away from the bench and walking towards the front gates.

* * *

"Ser Stevron," Nysa dropped into a curtsy at the sight of him.

"My Queen, there is no need to be so formal with me," he smiled before gesturing for her to stand.

"I suppose I'm an old creature of habit," she smiled and looked shamefully away from him.

"There are many words to describe the sort of beautiful, kind creature that you are, but old certainly isn't one of them," he offered his arm in a silent request. Nysa slipped her hand under and lightly grabbed a hold of his elbow. "We haven't had much time to talk since your marriage to the King."

Nysa sighed. "Yes, well it seems that the King either wishes for me to sit silently by his side during council meetings or I rather just stay out of his way." She shook her head at her outspoken character before continuing. "I must apologize, Ser Stevron, for my behavior. It is most unbecoming."

"One is able to discern why you are frustrated. Yesterday's meeting could have gone better than anticipated," he nodded in understanding.

"A simple question lead to a most heated topic."

"Is there a reason why you kept quiet on your husband's brother's desertion?"

"Honestly, I assumed that he already knew. The King is plagued with many distressing situations and I thought that his brother was one of them."

Ser Stevron nodded. "He does have many concerns, that much is true. Any King who isn't concerned about those in his House, under his care, or the Lords who fight for him is hardly a King at all. He fights battles and the men love to see a warrior who will fight for them, protect them. It brings us glory."

"It does," she agreed before pausing and tilting her head at him. "There seems to be a statement that you want to make with me, Ser."

"My Queen, I wish to speak frankly with you."

"Go on," she replied.

"Your husband is hardly a commander outside of the battlefield. He needs to learn how to rule over his people. Perhaps if his Queen were able to teach him that, it might ease the stress."

"You're siding with me? After all that happened?"

"Why does that surprise you?"

Nysa paused in their walking and turned to face him. "You asked to be forward, then I'll be frank with you as well, Ser Stevron. There is much talk - especially since the wedding. I only have five other Lords who currently hold me in high regard. My opinion among the King's Lords is slipping and I had hoped to rebuild that at yesterday's meeting."

"By withholding information," he questioned.

"By assuming this command that you imply is out of the King's grasp," Nysa answered. "I have already been informed that the men will look to him in battle. As to other regards, I know that I need to learn to take the initiative. But I can't do that when half of them are questioning my every move." She studied him for a moment. "And now here are you willing to supply what I so desperately need as a Queen. Your speech at my wedding was obviously done so that you could show loyalty to your King. And you're saying that you'll do more for him, after he dishonored House Frey?"

Ser Stevron nodded in confirmation.

"You will excuse me if I seem confused at our graciousness."

He chuckled. "I am thankful that you saved my life. I am grateful that you assisted in protecting my brothers and I from the Lannisters. I meant every word that I stated when I offered my cup forth at your wedding. But, none of that was done without a price, my Queen."

"I don't know whether to be grateful of your honesty or not," Nysa looked away. "You admitted that your loyalty isn't truly founded."

"I assure you, I will be loyal to my King. But I cannot guarantee that others..."

"Will see things the same as you do," Nysa concluded.

"Exactly. And to ensure further provocation, perhaps the King will need his Queen to step forward. As I stated earlier, he commands the men in battle. But as regards learning how to rule over them..."

"I understand, Ser Stevron," she nodded before gesturing for the two of them to sit at a nearby stone ledge. The knight may have been healed but he was still up in years and Nysa had no intention of putting his life in danger once again. "What is it that you wish for me to do?"

"Again, I need to remind you that my House will do what they want. I am not their Lord. They seek my father's approval. And I can only do so much to assuage all of House Frey. But I will be your champion, defend you at all council meetings," Ser Stevron reminded her. "I will gather as much of the other Lords together as possible. I believe you have a kind heart and will take everyone into consideration. But as you mentioned, you need support. I will do all that I can."

Nysa nodded. "What is it that you need?"

Ser Stevron looked away and pointed to a banner hanging high. "That is a banner from House Royce, my mother's House."

"From the Vale," Nysa stated as he moved his head to answer. "I thought that Lady Arryn doesn't support Robb. He said that his Aunt..."

"There are men from House Redfort, House Waynwood and House Templeton who support Lord Royce in fighting for your husband."

Nysa shook her head. "They'd hardly go against House Arryn. I'm sure Lady Lysa..."

"They understand that this fight is against House Lannister," Ser Stevron began. "But House Lannister is strong and rich, there aren't many who surpass House Lannister."

"I don't understand what this has to do with me."

"I heard that your mother comes from a great House," he whispered as she looked towards him with shock.

"There's no way to know for sure where my mother..."

"Your Lord Uncle," he pressed.

"How do you know of this?"

Ser Stevron moved his hand towards the other banners there, showing her House Manderly, House Umber and House Bolton. "Whispers from the Northmen tell me that there are gifts that come to you - come to the North - during your name-day. They gathered information that your Lord Uncle would no doubt pay a handsome price to whomever you wed."

Gifts were never in short supply during her name-day and she knew - Jory knew and Ser Rodrik knew as well - that majority of the Lords were willing to wed their nephews, second-born sons or younger or widowed brothers to Nysa in order to obtain said gifts.

"You want my Lord Uncle to give you something," Nysa questioned.

"It would benefit you really," he said. "You'd gain the support of many." He leaned closer and whispered. "From what I hear, there is talk of bringing the Vale into House Lannister's fold."

"The Vale would fight for House Lannister," she questioned. "But Robb is kin, Lady Arryn's nephew."

"It is only whispers that have been heard," he clarified. "But I'm sure that you know Lord Tywin will want to ensure majority of the Kingdoms fight for his grandson. The Vale has not yet pledge their fealty to King Joffrey. Whatever means they hope to do it with, you have to be certain to play on the same field as Tywin Lannister, my Queen. The soldiers fight on the field. The Hand of the King will fight by other means."

Nysa cast her eyes back towards the banners, men who could help Robb, men who would support her. _"A bold move, my Lord, and admirable. But is it wise to yank the lion's tail? Tywin Lannister is the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms. Gold will win wars, not soldiers."_ Lord Baelish's warning to Lord Stark, echoed in her head. Yes, this war was against House Lannister. It was House Lannister that held Sansa captive. It was House Lannister that took away Torrhen and crippled Bran. And Lord Tywin was the head of that House.

"Gold will win wars," she whispered before turning towards Ser Stevron, still uncertain if her Lord Uncle would help her by such means.

How would she get in contact with him? She always gave her letters to Lord Stark and he was the one who sent correspondence between the pair. Perhaps she could go to Lady Catelyn. She shook her head, hearing Gendry's words about her conduct towards her mother-by-law. Sighing, Nysa made the decision in her heart. She had listened to Lady Catelyn's advice so far and would continue to do so. Surely Lady Carey would honor this request to write her Lord Uncle.

"How much do you want, Ser Stevron?"

* * *

"I have not had the pleasure of meeting your father," Jon stated.

"Yes," the young girl who had a bow slung across her shoulder, "well, my father rarely leaves the Greywater Watch. Although he has spoken a lot about Lord Eddard Stark. He is greatly saddened that he was unable to follow your brother down South. He has sent my brother and I here, to see what it is that we can do to help the North and House Stark."

"How is it that you came to know Jon would be here," questioned Osric.

"We saw," she paused and then turned towards her brother. "More like my brother sees things, has dreams. He saw your father's death. He saw your brothers."

"You saw my father and my brothers die?"

"No," she shook her head. "He saw your father's death in a dream," she paused, trying to find the right words. "Your brothers..."

"I saw two wolves who were searching in the wolfswood," her brother stepped forward. "Your direwolves, you are bonded to them in a special way, Jon. As my sister, Meera has mentioned, I am able to have dreams, see things in my dreams. I can see things that happened in the past, things that are happening right now thousands of miles away and things that will happen."

"So, you were able to see my father get murdered and yet did nothing to stop it?"

"You misunderstood," he clarified. "I saw it as it was happening." Jon looked over at Osric before turning back to the young man in front of him. "The things I see, come to me in my dreams. I follow them to where it points me. Your brother and I met in one of those dreams."

"You met the dead," Jon asked.

"He is far from dead, I assure you."

"How can we believe you," Osric took a step towards him as Meera got into a protective stance in front of her brother. He paused and took a deep sigh. "You tell us that you see things but we have evidence that," he paused, "the word of our own soldiers say that the boys' bodies were hung on the gates. They know what they saw!"

Instead of answering Osric, he looked at Jon. "Have you ever seen what Ghost sees?"

Jon narrowed his eyes at Jojen Reed. He had seen himself pacing in front of the Lord Commander's room, scratching and growling at the door. He shook himself awake, feeling a chill in the air he never felt before. When he had gone outside, Ghost was already there at Commander Jeor's rooms. He was able to save the Lord Commander's life that night. He received _Longclaw_ later on for protecting Commander Jeor.

"Only once," he stated, "I thought it was just..."

"A dream," Jojen finished. "You can warg, probably not as strong yet but the ability is there. Your brother Brandon can do the same."

Jon shook his head. How was it that not long after he returns to Winterfell a boy and girl from one of his father's bannermen arrive to tell him that Bran and Rickon were still alive? And the only reason he had for this was because they believed he had a dream? Because they believed that he could see things in his dream? Jon had nightmares of his father's death, not dreams.

"I understand that this is confusing. But Brandon is in need of help."

"I was told that my brothers were..."

"Dead, I know," Jojen nodded.

"There were young children here - the only ones that were left alive and they informed me that they saw my brother's bodies hanging outside, above Winterfell's gates."

"What they saw were not bodies of your brothers. It was just a ruse to have the people here believe that they are dead. I'm telling you that they are not. I know you don't believe me. You may think I am mad. But I will tell you this," he stepped around his sister and closer to Jon. "The day I dreamt of your father's death, I told my father. That was the first day I saw him weep. He mourned for your father because he believed what I saw. He knew it to be true, Jon. He knew it to be true, even before we received word from the South."

Ronnel Woods moved to stand next to Jon, his back facing Jojen and Meera. "I was born and raised in those woods. You were raised to hunt, fish and play in those woods. We would have seen them on our way here if that is the case."

Osric came to stand by him as well. "And whose bodies were on display here in Winterfell? And if it is just a ruse, then how did your brothers escape Winterfell? One of your brothers can barely walk."

Jon sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what to make of it."

"Then there's this nonsense about dreams," Ronnel stated. "The Gods gave him this gift or is he cursed by them?"

"The story seems far-fetched, I agree. But we have to consider that his father was one of your father's most loyal bannermen," Osric argued. "Lord Reed considered your father to be a close friend. I'm sure you've heard the stories."

"I have," Jon answered. "Does that mean I blindly trust him that Bran and Rickon are still alive?"

"It means whatever you want it to mean," Jojen answered as the the three young men turned around to look at him. "My father never told me about the Rebellion, a promise he made to House Stark and a promise he'll keep until the Gods take him from this world. Like my father before me, I serve House Stark. If you want me to not search for Brandon, then I won't. It is you who will decide, Jon."


	22. Part 3:Queen of the Trident - Chapter 22

**Part 3  
Queen of the Trident**

 **Chapter 22**

Nysa stared at Robb as he continued to move about their room. He had just informed her that she would be going with his mother - in other words, he was sending her away from him. She reached out and pulled one of his tunics away. "And what am I to do in Riverrun?"

"You will be safe there," he commented, grabbing the clothes from her hand before turning away again.

"Safer there than here," she asked. "I am the one who helped you gain Harrenhal. Arya and I were here fighting Lannister guards with only two hundred Northmen. We are safe here, we've been safe here for weeks before you arrived with the rest of the Northerners. Robb, honestly..."

"My mother's father has fallen ill. She wants to travel there to say her goodbyes. It would be best if you were there with her, if you and Arya were there with her. You can keep an eye on Edmure," Robb insisted.

"He is not a child. He is a Lord's son and he's fighting in your war."

"He attacked the Westerlands - something I had not hoped for - and has taken many captives," Robb shook his head.

"Perhaps that is a good thing. Could we ransom them as your mother had done with Tyrion for your father's bones," she asked.

Robb sighed, closing his small trunk and calling for Olyvar to come inside and take it out. Olyvar bowed to both of them before exiting. Nysa looked expectantly back at him once they were alone again.

"That is why I am leaving. Edmure holds the Lord of Hornvale, the Lord of Banefort, the Lord of Crakehall and the Lord of the Crag as some of his prized prisoners. The Crag, Crakehall, Banefort and Hornvale have decided to pledge their fealty to me in order to spare their Lords' lives."

"Then I should be by your side."

"Nysa..."

"Robb, I am your Queen. If they are to pledge their loyalty to you, don't you think it wise that they see me? I am to become their Queen after all."

"You are to go with my mother and sister to Riverrun. The decision has already been made. I won't be long."

"I need to go with you," Nysa insisted. "Robb, you need to think of an heir."

He turned sharply towards her. "How can I when you no longer desire to share my bed?"

"We share the same bed! What are you speaking of?"

"You know very well that whenever I reach over for you, you bark at me louder than Grey Wind," he argued.

"That's because we've been arguing all day. Then at night, you seem to think that you can just roll over me and I'll spread my legs gladly for you," she shouted. "You belittle my opinions in front of the Lords. You silence me whenever I want to give a suggestion."

"They are my Lords, Nysa. Not yours, mine," he disputed.

"You made me your Queen. They are mine as much as they are yours. And yet you mistreat me in front of them!"

"You undermine my decisions," Robb countered as he got close enough to her. They stood a hair breath's away from one another. "I am your King! The choices I make should stand but you argue and refute them. I don't need a wife who questions my every move. It makes me look incompetent, like I don't know anything at all."

"I've seen the enemy camp! I've been a prisoner of Tywin Lannister. I stood in the same room as Cersei for much longer than you have," she pointed at him. "I should be allowed to voice my thoughts on the matter."

"Lord Bolton was right, the council meetings are no place for a woman," he ran his hand through his hair in a frustrated manner.

"And where is my place, Robb? I am more than just someone who will warm your bed! And listening to Lord Bolton above me," she snorted.

"He is one of my father's bannermen, my bannermen."

"There are other Lords who serve you - Greatjon, Lord Glover, Lord Karstark. Do not forget that it was Greatjon who named you his King. Harrion Karstark was the second to offer his sword to you. And what about the men who serve as your personal guards? I've heard that you've turned some of them away. Does Lady Dacey's opinion or that of Smalljon's not belong at your council meetings? Daryn Hornwood is Lord of Hornwood now. He should be respected. Instead he is still serving..."

"He wants to serve as a personal guard for me. And since we're on the subject of guards, I think you should select some guards to protect you. There's been rumors that..."

"That the Black Walder Frey is looking to kill me," she finished for him. "All the more so, you should leave me in charge of Harrenhal and take the Freys with you or send them to Riverrun. Your grandfather - and soon Edmure - is their liege Lord. They would know how to control them. Instead, you're letting Lord Bolton..."

"I will hear no more talk of Lord Bolton or House Frey," Robb demanded.

"Then at least let me speak to you about going with you," she pressed.

"Nysa..."

"Robb, they need to see your Queen is with you not locked up somewhere," she waved her hands dismissively. "And as mentioned before, we need to think about an heir."

"You want to talk about making an heir? Fine," he shouted before pulling her into his arms and kissing her roughly.

Nysa pushed at his chest, throwing her arms about him in protest. Their kissing grew furious, causing her to grow angry and aroused at the same time. She hated it. Gods, she hated it.

Suddenly the mood shifted, as Robb began to rip her clothes off of her body. He was angry - angry at her, at his mother, at the Lords, at everyone. And she was helping any. They argued every night - every damn night - about something that happened. Things weren't pleasant not in the least. He had bedded her in days - his own wife. She wouldn't refuse him now.

"It's too fast," she cautioned as he threw her naked body on the bed. "Robb..."

He silenced her with a kiss which turned into him biting his way down her body. Robb had never seen himself so consumed with this blind desire. His cock demanded that he take her, demanded that he make her his right now, show her who was King. He took off the remaining small clothes he had on and pumped his cock in his tight fist.

"Robb, wait," she put up her hands.

There was no waiting now. He grabbed onto her wrists and pushed them above her head.

"Stop."

"You wanted to make an heir," was his only reply before he kissed and bit down her body once more. She wasn't moaning the way that he wanted her to, she wasn't grabbing onto him the way he wanted her to. Instead she was pushing him away, demanding that they wait.

"Stop."

"No!"

"Robb, please," Nysa whimpered - this time in pain and fright.

He pulled back and looked down at her, face flushed and chest heaving - but not in passion. Deep inside her blue eyes stormed a rich violet. That was one of the tall tale signs that he knew she was upset and scared. He glanced down at their bodies and realized that he was about to bed her, unwillingly. She didn't want this. Yes, she had talked about an heir, but this isn't what she had in mind, not him pawing at her as though she were some common whore.

Robb pushed off of her, glancing down at his cock that had been prepared to enter her. Gods, he felt like a fool. She was his wife. Did he just attempt to force himself on his wife?

He saw that look in her eyes. She was frightened - frightened of him. What in the seven hells was wrong with him? He was such an ass.

Nysa felt tears threatening to spill forth. She and Robb hardly had love in their marriage at the moment. There was so much distrust, this lack of communication, her love for Torrhen and his Lords' demands that hung around the two of them, over them, taunting them both. She closed her eyes and felt the trickle of a tear down her cheek. She was paying the price for her actions now and it weighed heavily on her heart as Robb's breathing slowed down next to her. Shaking her head, she sprung up from the bed in search of her gown.

"Nysa," Robb sat up, sensing the distress coming off of her as she frantically dressed.

"Were you going to force yourself upon me just now?"

"No, I wasn't," he shook his head. "I would never do that, Nysa. Come back here and let us talk. You wanted to talk, right?"

She ignored him, causing him to shoot up out of the bed as well. He reached for her but she tore away from his grasp, taking a cloak and throwing the door open. Nysa was gone before he could reach her.

* * *

"What is it," asked Jon as he walked towards Meera.

She barely turned to him but kept her eyes on her brother. "Your brother, Brandon, is scared. He wants to come back but the Raven calls him."

"Raven," Jon questioned.

Meera nodded.

Jon didn't ask anymore questions. Instead he stood next to Meera Reed, both of them quiet and looking at Jojen as he sat still in the middle of the yard. His eyes were open but they were distant. Jojen didn't appear to be focusing on whatever was going on around him. It was a bit unsettling for Jon to watch, for any of the men to watch. Ghost came forward then, whimpering and pacing. Jon went to pat his wolf's head but the creature took off.

Ghost came to a halt in front of Jojen, starting to whimper and pace in front of the young Lord again. Something was happening that had made Ghost behave in such a strange manner. Jon couldn't pinpoint what it was. He waited with bated breath as the wolf watched Jojen before everything in the yard froze.

It happened slowly that Jon couldn't comprehend it. Ghost fell to floor, his body curled up once, then twice before spreading out.

"Ghost," Jon pulled out his sword and ran toward Jojen.

"It's okay," a voice halted him.

He shook his head, looking around in the yard but no one was there. He turned towards Jojen, staring him down. The young Lord still sat there, unaffected by the cool air. Ghost whimpered again, this time his front two paws flinched and kicked out.

"Jon."

He looked back at Jojen. "Bran, is that Bran?"

"Stay in the North, Jon," he heard his brother's voice.

"What is Bran? I don't hear anything," Meera ran to his side.

Jon shook his head and pointed to Jojen. "Your brother, he was talking to me."

"No, he wasn't," she shook her head.

"Stay in the North, Jon. She will need you here."

"She," Jon asked, looking at Jojen but his eyes were still vacant and void of expression. "Who is she?"

"Jon."

He turned to see Ghost laying down. His normal red eyes were replaced with a deep-blue eyes. Jon gasped, startled back and shook his head. Those eyes looked just like Bran's. It wasn't possible. He paced wildly back and forth in front of the direwolf. The last time he saw Bran, he was laying down in a bed. His eyes were closed. His eyes were closed.

"No," Jon shouted, turning back towards Ghost. "What is happening? Bran," he charged the wolf but nothing happened.

"Stay in the North, Jon. She will need you here."

"I still don't know who this 'she' it is that you are telling me about," he complained. "Is it Arya? Sansa? Bran, do you speak of them? Is it Nysa? Bran!"

Ghost quickly stood, shaking off his fur. He sat down, facing Jon - his eyes red once more.

* * *

Robb sighed as he strolled through the ruins of Castamere. He had sent a letter to Riverrun, hoping that by the time it arrived there, Nysa, his mother and his sister would arrive there as well. It was the first thing he did as he entered the Westerlands. He wanted to let them know that he was safe at the moment. Daryn, Dacey, Ser Perwyn and Smalljon kept their ever watchful eyes on him.

He also wanted to let Nysa know how much he missed her.

That was something he had not written in the letter.

Their relationship had changed somehow and he hated it. She wasn't present to send him off. Neither was his sister. His mother stood there with a soothing smile and assured him that the time apart may repair their marriage.

Gods, he was such a fool. But he didn't want to admit that to her. She had changed as well. There seemed to be so much defiance and anger. And he couldn't help but feel that lingering doubt whenever she talked to Harrion or Lord Karstark. She loved Torrhen - was probably still in love with him. Nysa didn't voice it out loud but he could see it. She was right. They had things to talk about. But he wouldn't let her talk and she wouldn't approve of his decisions. It was a useless battle when neither one of them was willing to give in.

"I am stubborn, aren't I," Robb reached for Grey Wind's head and scratched behind his ears. The wolf nudged Robb with his nose before laying down next to him. "We still have a long way to walk or are you tired of my company like our Queen," Robb joked externally but inside, he didn't like the way that he had parted from Nysa.

Grey Wind simply turned away and looked at another part of the castle. Even the wolf knew of the circumstances that plagued him. It was like Grey Wind could feel the frustration that he went through. At the same time, Grey Wind often projected Nysa's feelings - disappointment, upset and grief.

"I loved her. I still love her," Robb argued as Grey Wind went to lick his paws. "Are you going to ignore me as she does?"

The wolf turned his head, curling into his body and let out a deep breath.

"She is being too proud. And I know she might be right."

Grey Wind looked up at him, his wolfish eyes narrowing - almost the same way he saw it done with Nysa. Gods, he was arguing with a wolf. He sighed and shook his head, looking away and taking a deep breath to calm himself. And probably gain some bit of his sanity back.

"Okay, she _is_ right," Robb conceded. "It was foolish of me to think I could bed her like she was some whore. She is my wife, my Queen."

No response from Grey Wind, so Robb continued.

"She is more than just someone to warm my bed. She knows about the other Lords. She listens to them. She doesn't dismiss their concerns, she simply gives them options so as to what fits best. She's seen the enemy camp, I know this. She's been at the Capital - something I've never done. But she's not a warrior, not a soldier," Robb argued. "She doesn't know battle strategy."

"And you do?"

Robb's head snapped around to see no one else there - other than he and Grey Wind. He reached slowly for his sword but Grey Wind's head turned towards him. He looked at the wolf and saw that his eyes had changed. It almost looked like...

"Bran," Robb asked.

"Work with her, Robb," he heard Bran's voice in his head. Robb took a step back, shaking his head and blinking his eyes.

"I don't understand," he walked away from Grey Wind, putting some much needed distance between the two. "I've gone mad."

"You need to work with her, Robb."

"Bran, how are you even speaking to..." he turned around but it was like Bran wasn't there. He wasn't present in Castamere in the first place but Robb had the strangest feeling that he was there, like he was connected to Grey Wind somehow. He rubbed his wolf's head, sighing in confusion. "He was here, wasn't he, boy?"

Grey Wind licked his hands before standing up, shaking his fur as though he had crawled through the dirt. He briskly walked forward before looking back at Robb, wondering why he was staying back. Robb glanced at the spot where Grey Wind was laying and then looked about the empty yard. He wasn't sure if he could believe it or not but it almost felt like Bran was alright, like he was well and safe.

"Bran is alive," he muttered. Grey Wind caught his eyes and it was like the wolf gave him a nod, to confirm his thoughts.

 _"A direwolf is our sigil," Robb answered proudly._

 _"That's right, my son," his father's hand fell on his shoulder. "Did you know that a direwolf has been known to form strong bonds with those of House Stark. The Winter Kings of old could command their wolves without saying or doing anything. They simply thought it and the Wolf would react. It was like they and their direwolf were one."_

 _"How does it happen father?"_

 _Ned Stark chuckled and patted his son's shoulder warmly. "I told you the Winter Kings of old had done that. It cannot happen now."_

Somehow, Robb felt like it just did.

* * *

Lady Catelyn's smile remained on her face for quite some time. Arya rode on a horse next to her. And on the other end rode Nysa.

"There's so much water," Arya commented.

"This is Riverrun," Nysa replied.

"I know. I just never saw so much water, moving," she added. "Remember the Inn at the Crossroads?"

"Aye," Nysa answered with a frown on her face.

"That part of the river was smaller. I played alongside it," she paused and Nysa knew why. Catelyn looked at her daughter to see the same frown on Nysa's face etched on Arya's. "I remember you saying that not all of the guards that came from Winterfell with us knew how to swim. I'd have to rely on the King's men to save me."

Nysa gulped and nodded. "I did say that."

Arya laughed, causing both women to look at her with confusion. "Now that I think about it, I'd fake my drowning just so that I could lure them into the river and watch them float down the Trident. Look at that water flowing quickly," she nodded. "Can you imagine the Hound, gasping for air?"

"Arya," Catelyn scolded as Nysa laughed lightly.

"I hope I learn how to swim efficiently during my stay here," Arya ignored her mother as Nysa burst out in laughter that time.

Catelyn turned to her good-daughter and nodded her head. It was nice to hear the young woman laugh again. She and Robb were constantly arguing about one thing or another. And no doubt, Nysa being sent to Riverrun instead of traveling with Robb must have hurt the young Queen more than she was letting on.

"Do you know how to swim Mother," Arya asked.

"I haven't truly swam since I was a little girl. There are pools in Winterfell," Catelyn said and smiled lightly. The last time she swam in the pools of Winterfell, she was with her husband. They stayed close to the water's edge. What Nysa said was true, not many in the North knew how to swim. "The rivers here can be dangerous. If you both wish to go, you'll need guards with you," Catelyn responded as Nysa nodded.

Nysa turned behind her.

Harrion Karstark strode forward with Lyra Mormont and Ser Stevron Frey pulling up a small group of guards. Two of them were from House Karstark and the other two were Cayn and Wyl - House Stark's own guards. They had been Jory's close friends, helped Nysa and Arya escape the Capital. Of course, Nysa would have kept them close to her. Catelyn wondered at Ser Stevron's presence. Why hadn't he stayed back in Harrenhal or gone with the King? Nysa trusted him, that much was certain but it made Catelyn wary all the same. She had heard the rumors floating around the camp about what a few from House Frey were hoping to accomplish.

"We won't leave the Queen or the King's sister unattended, Lady Catelyn," Lyra Mormont bowed her head. "And unlike the two of them, I've learned to swim," she smiled at Nysa, who shook her head and turned to face forward.

"A group of guards approaches us," Jory called out from in front of them.

"House Tully," asked Harrion.

"They are from House Frey," Ser Stevron commented. "That is my brother, Aenys."

"A Targaryen name," Nysa turned to him.

"Aye," he nodded. "His sons were named Aegon and Rhaegar, after the King and crowned-Prince. Brother," he hailed Ser Aenys as they rode closer.

"Stevron," Ser Aenys nodded along with the other Frey soldiers present. "It is good to see you alive. We feared the worst when we heard news of your capture."

"I am alive and well - as is the rest of House Frey," Ser Stevron came alongside Nysa's horse, "thanks in a large part to this young woman here. She is our Queen."

There was a small pause of silence before Ser Aenys drew out his sword - recognition in his eyes. Nysa's eyes widened and she pulled on the reins of her horse to fall back. Jory, Cayn, Wyl, Harrion and Lyra all reacted as well. They pulled out their swords while some of them went to protect Catelyn and Arya. The other guards and Lords who had rode with them could be heard in the background - the hooves of their horses pounding as they hurried to their Queen.

"Stop this, she is our Queen," Ser Stevron shouted, putting his horse between Nysa's and his brother's.

"King Robb brought dishonor to our House by wedding this whore! What kind of son did you raise Catelyn Tully? Are not your words 'Family, Duty, and Honor'," Ser Aenys demanded.

Lyra began shouting at him, demanding that Nysa have his head for speaking such slander against not only her but Lady Catelyn as well. It was chaotic and Nysa appreciated the heavy presence of guards that were here to assist her. She noticed that Ser Aenys wasn't the only Frey who looked ready to run her through with a sword.

"Stop," she attempted but her voice was hoarse and shaky.

Her head whipped around in panic as other horses from both Riverrun and behind her rode up hard and fast.

"No, stop!"

She looked for Lady Catelyn but in the chaos, Jory had grabbed Nysa and pulled her onto his horse - ready to ride away from danger at that very moment.

"Where's Lady Catelyn? Where is Arya?"

She felt like she was being suffocated as Jory's hold on her tightened and he kicked his horse to go.

"No," she struggled, trying to get away. "Lady Catelyn!"

Try as she might, she was stuck to Jory as the other guards surrounded them. She still couldn't see Lady Catelyn or Arya. She wondered about the safety of Jory, Lyra and Harrion. She felt as though she were in the middle of battle. Her sword wasn't by her side. Torrhen's bow wasn't by her side. She didn't even carry Jory's dagger with her. She felt so lost as the panic and fear consumed her.

Nysa screamed - her hands and arms moving everywhere - anywhere to feel safe. There were shouts and commands to get the Queen to safety, protect Lady Catelyn and Princess Arya. Her heart was beating wildly. She felt so afraid, so frightened.

 _"Don't leave, Papa!"_

 _Arms were holding her in place as she felt the warmth of the hand holding her own disappear. "Protect my daughter."_

 _"No! Papa," her hands moved out in desperation._

The two memories collided and like a wild horse that had been trapped for so long, Nysa reached out her arms towards the Freys with swords in their hands. Anger, betrayal and viciousness in their eyes. It sent a chill down her spine, tickling the heat that spread through her body. It happened so quickly that she had no idea how it happened.

A large flame burst through and spread out through the wet-plains in front of Riverrun. Her mouth opened in a screech that deafened those around her. The heat filled her body as though it were running through her blood. It was hungry and thirsty, this heat inside of her. Nysa allowed it to burn brightly, screaming as the flames grew higher and hotter.

And when it was done, Nysa collapsed off her brother's horse in exhaustion, her body falling onto the ground.

* * *

"What happened out there," Jory questioned as Lady Catelyn stood up from his sister's bed.

"We can't talk of this, not now," Lady Catelyn admonished him.

"I know she's not my sister," Jory stepped forward.

"You're speaking foolishness," she turned away and knelt in front of Nysa's bedside, grabbing the damp, cool cloth and touching her good-daughter's forehead.

"Lady Catelyn," Jory slammed the door shut and held up a burnt and bloody cloth. "This is from one of the soldiers belonging to House Frey. He - unlike the other two guards - is still alive but he is not keeping quiet, no one is keeping quiet. What happened out there cannot be unseen. They are demanding to know what sort of witch their Queen is!"

"She is not a witch and you know that," she gave him a soured expression.

"I hardly know what she is," he replied, "or what that was outside. I need to know. You need to tell me."

"And what gives you the right to make such a demand fro me?"

"I promised to claim her as my sister, a promise I made to Lord Stark. Do you not remember that?"

 _***Flashback***_

 _Lord Stark stepped forward towards Jory Cassel and noticed the young Rhaenys with him._

 _"She is a smart little thing," Jory said without looking up._

 _"Aye, she is."_

 _"She escaped Lady Stark's nurses again," Jory smiled._

 _The first real smile Lord Stark saw since he came back to Riverrun without Jory's father, Ser Martyn Cassel. His brothers and mother had all died. Jory remained, minus his Uncle Ser Rodrick who said that Jory was head of their House now. They were loyal to House Stark. And he only wished to repay the boy with the same amount of unwavering loyalty._

 _The child dropped to the ground then. Her bottom hitting the dirt as she made a sound of pain before scrunching her eyes shut and lifted herself up. "She is a strong one, too," Jory commented as he stepped forward and took his father's sword from her. "And a sly one," he teased as the girl giggled before hiding by Lord Stark's legs. "Pretending to be innocent, only to disarm a guard," Jory chuckled._

 _"She seems quite taken with you," Ned noted. "It's been hard getting her to settle down with anyone."_

 _And that was the truth of it. The girl would either be following Lady Catelyn around or if she did escape the nurses care, she'd wander about the camp until she found Lord Stark. Jory finding the need to occupy himself other than to let matters sadden him, would discover the girl running from the nurses and bring her back to Lady Stark's tent. But lately he had let the girl stay by him. His cousin had recently passed as well. His Uncle, Ser Rodrik was saddened and was looking to marry soon. Until then there was only Jory. He didn't like being alone and the men were sore company sometimes._

 _"May I keep her," he asked suddenly._

 _Ned tilted his head at Jory._

 _"I meant," Jory laughed nervously and then looked away, "forget it, my Lord."_

 _"I did say if you have anything to ask of me, then just ask," Lord Stark told him._

 _"If you and Lady Stark wish to take her to Winterfell, then you can say that she is my sister," Jory turned back to Lord Stark._

 _"That is a huge responsibility, Jory. She may seem cute and obedient now but children take a lot of time and patience to raise."_

 _"I know, my Lord. But its just that now, I'm going back to nothing. My father," Jory paused and felt his grief start to build then. A little hand touched his knee. He looked up to see the little girl there._

 _"Why sad," she replied._

 _Jory smiled sadly again at her before a hand went to his shoulder._

 _"It is a huge sacrifice on your part and I must admit, my wife and I did not think about what to tell others of who she is. But if you are certain, then you can claim her as your sister. Lady Stark and I will assist in raising her. She will be given all the attention in the world as though she were our own."_

 _"You are too kind, my Lord."_

 _"No Jory, it is you who are too kind."_

 _Jory nodded to the girl again. "What do you call her?"_

 _"Her name is," Ned paused and then looked towards Lady Stark's tent. "I cannot tell you her name, Jory."_

 _Jory scoffed for a while. "It's probably some Southern name," he shook his head, "that will not do in the North." He contemplated for a while, looking at the girl. "Could I change your name to something Northern," he asked as the girl tilted her head in confusion. "I probably could," he nodded, "but then, then it would not explain your Southern looks."_

 _Ned watched Jory look at the girl. The girl was looking back, babbling in response to whatever it was that Jory was telling her - as if they were having a conversation, as if they held some sort of understanding._

 _"I cannot think of anything," Jory announced suddenly, "but I will tell you this. You are my sister and I am your brother. Our father was a brave knight. We are from House Cassel. And House Cassel has been and always will be loyal to House Stark."_

 _"Tak," she smiled before scrunching up her nose again._

 _"Close enough," he replied as Lord Stark continued to watch the interaction._

 _It was then that a throat cleared and the two of them looked up. Lord Stark looked a bit apprehensive while Jory sat there in fear. Lady Catelyn Stark eyed the two men before leaning down to pick the young child up._

 _"Nys," she cheered gleefully while showing Lady Stark her charming smile. "Aggy," she pointed to Jory then back to herself, "Nys!"_

 _"My child, your name is..."_

 _"Nysa Snow," Jory spoke up - the moment she said Nys, he knew what he would call her. "Forgive me, my Lady," he looked back to the ground again. "I merely wanted to spend time with my father's daughter."_

 _Lady Stark looked towards her husband before turning back again towards Jory. "Are you..."_

 _"Claiming her as my sister, yes," he answered. "The Starks have always treated our family well. My father," he took a deep breath, "he loyally served House Stark as his father had done before him. And I shall do the same. I wish to become captain of the guard as my father once was. This girl seems important and I know that a lot of people can't know why you and Lord Stark have her so I want to help. I have little to no family left, aside from my Uncle. And I would like to take care of the girl." Catelyn pierced him with his eyes. "With your permission of course, my Lady," he bowed._

 _"She is not a common child, Jory. I do not know if his Lordship has informed you about who her parents are."_

 _Jory shook his head. "He has not, but she is to be kept hidden, correct? Then let me help you and Lord Stark," he pleaded, "let me take her in as my sister."_

"I never questioned who she was, who her parents were or the House she came from," Jory continued. "That day I went back to Winterfell, my father and brothers, my own mother, they were all gone. All I had left was my Uncle and now he is gone too. I do not know about my cousin Beth. And this young woman - she has truly been like a sister to me. I love her, like a sister. I would die for her. She is all that I have left. But I still don't know who she is," he stated. "I think it is time you've told me."

Lady Catelyn wiped her face, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, remembering that journey from Riverrun to Winterfell, remembering her husband.

"There have been times where her anger turns her body hot. I've been burned twice before," Jory moved so that he was standing on the opposite end, facing Lady Catelyn. "I've seen her heal people with a blue flame. She told me that she healed Ser Stevron the same way she healed Lady Umber, Lord Glover's son and Lord Karstark's daughter."

"What is your point, Jory?"

"Because this time she conjured fire out of nowhere," his voice raised and Lady Catelyn sprung to her feet, rushing over towards him.

"Quiet down, you hear!"

"No, I will not be quiet," Jory argued. "All those other times, there was a fire burning in the hearth, a candle or a torch nearby. She moved the fire with her hands," he glided his hands across the air. "But this time, there was no other flames present - other than the one coming forth from her!"

"It's a gift to heal, she has the gift of healing," Catelyn shook her head.

"That was not healing out there on the plains," Jory interjected. "You knew something like this would happen, didn't you? You knew it was possible?"

Catelyn turned around and bent down to touch Nysa's hot forehead. "Ned told me who she was when he brought her home. He told me that no one could know, that it meant her life so she was kept hidden."

"And I've done all that I can to make her my sister, keep her safe. I wouldn't betray her."

"You don't know how grateful I was that day when you claimed her. I had no idea how we would keep her safe, no idea how we were to raise her," she looked up at Jory with grief written across her wet face.

"We raised her to be a Lady."

"But she isn't a Lady," Catelyn sobbed.

"Nysa is not from a great House in the South?"

She took a deep breath before peering down at the young woman on the bed. "Ned wrote to me, from King's Landing, before he was arrested," Lady Catelyn explained, "told me that I should tell her when the time is right. Her mother and father," she shook her head.

Abruptly she stood up, catching Jory off guard. She stared at him hard, with determination in her eyes.

"What I'm about to tell you Jory, cannot leave this room."

"I've protected her from the moment Lord Stark brought her home," Jory replied. "I will continue to do so. Her secret is safe with me."

Lady Catelyn soothed her hand over the young woman's face one last time before moving to stand by the window, overlooking the rivers around her childhood home. "We waited here for Lord Stark to return, do you remember that, Jory? It was so long ago," she continued without giving Jory a chance to answer. "Ned had marched down to the Capital with my father's men, men from House Stark. And the night he returned to me, he returned with two children - one of them was Jon. The other was that young woman right there," she looked over her shoulder towards the bed.

 _***Flashback***_

 _They entered the room to see the nurses attempting to calm the little girl. Her dark brown hair wet from the tears on her face. The second she saw Lord Stark, she reached out for him._

 _"Lya," she reached for him._

 _Catelyn recognized the name for a moment and wondered how the little girl came to be in her husband's care._

 _"Leave us," Catelyn told the nurses._

 _Ned waited until every last one of them left to turn to his wife. "She was with Lyanna," Ned stated, "when I found her. She kept asking for her Papa. She," he shook his head, "she wouldn't leave Lyanna's side, even after..."_

 _"I am sorry, husband," she touched his arm. "I know you went there to find her, bring her back home. I am so sorry," she repeated as he leaned his forehead against hers._

 _"Lya," she pointed to Catelyn._

 _"No, child," Lord Stark replied adjusting the girl. "This is Lady Catelyn. She is my wife."_

 _"No papa," she looked around the room._

 _"There's no papa here," Ned shook his head slightly._

 _"Mama," the child's lip began to tremble._

 _"Child..."_

 _"Mama! Papa! Throne!"_

 _"I think she said throne," Catelyn interjected._

 _"Papa, Aggy, on throne," she insisted reaching her hands out in the air._

 _"She did say it."_

 _"Aggy, throne," she sniffed, tears running down her small face. "Back to throne!"_

 _"Oh," Catelyn felt sadness and took the girl in her arms, comforting her in a way that only a mother could. "Ned who is she?"_

 _Ned looked around and pulled her further into the room, away from the door. "She's Princess Rhaenys Targaryen," he whispered._

 _"Ned," Catelyn almost screeched and looked back at the door. Her husband moved her again. "What is she doing here? Why did you bring her here to Riverrun? Why is she with you? Why..."_

 _"Her mother is dead," Ned replied. "I thought," he shook his head and looked down. "I thought I could bring her to the Capital, back to her mother."_

 _"Jon Arryn told my father what happened at King's Landing."_

 _"Did he," Ned gritted his teeth. "Did he tell you of how Lord Tywin sacked the Capital? How the Lannister men killed Prince Aegon? He was but a boy and they stabbed him," Ned turned around and looked out a nearby window. "The men paraded his body around as a trophy! That was nothing compared to the fate of Princess Elia. How was I to return her daughter to that madness? I couldn't do it! I just couldn't! As much anger and hatred as I have towards that family for killing my father, killing Brandon," he stated as Catelyn walked towards him. "I couldn't bring myself to subject this little girl to such a thing. I couldn't."_

 _"I understand," she touched his arm. "But Robert will be King. They say that..."_

 _"I tried to reason with him but he is in the pit of lions now. He is to wed a Lannister."_

 _"Would you not return to see him..."_

 _"See him begin his rule as King with the murder of innocent children," he questioned with a loud tone as Catelyn took a step back. "Forgive me, Cat," he closed his eyes and opened an arm for her to come into. "I did not mean to take my frustration out of you."_

 _"You've lost your father, brother and now your sister," she replied. "It seems as though you have lost a friend as well."_

 _"He was like a brother to me," Ned whispered and leaned his chin against the top of her head. "I thought he would, thought he would listen to me. He cannot know about the Princess. She'll die."_

 _"We will take her home with us then," Catelyn stepped back and looked at the girl in her arms. "We'll hide her in the North, keep her safe."_

Jory stared at the bed, his eyes wide.

If Robert Baratheon had known that she was alive, would he have killed her - a small child? She dined in the same halls as King Robert - the man who had killed her father in battle. She had stood in the same room as the man who had killed her father. And yet, Lord Stark had kept her safe. His sister was taken by her father but he kept her safe. His father and brother were murdered by her grandfather but he kept her safe.

"She's a Targaryen," he said softly, still confused and in awe.

"She's innocent. Ned," Lady Catelyn paused. "Ned knew there was no honor in killing a child. He spared her, took her and raised her." There was another paused before she finished, "you helped us to raise her."

Jory had been helping to raise a Princess, a Princess who had a claim to the Iron Throne. That's why Lord Stark had been so determined to take her South, to take her to the Capital. He wanted her to see where she had been born, where she belonged. He remembered her standing next to Lord Stark in the throne room. She looked like she belonged there.

This entire time, Jory shook his head. This entire time he had seen her running around the wolfwoods, getting into trouble with the Stark kids, meeting other Lords and Ladies from great Houses in the North, playing with their children, laughing among Northmen as though she were one of them. The truth of the matter was that she was a Southern Princess.

Lord and Lady Stark made sure that she was raised as a Lady, made sure that she was treated as a high-born. They never tolerated her being belittled. They demanded that she eat with them at the high table, that she take lessons with their daughters and sons. She was always introduced as Lady Nysa. Lord Stark made sure the North loved her. She in turn came to love the North. A Princess to the Iron Throne loved the North, lived in the North and now she is their Queen.

Lady Catelyn came back to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"She truly is a Queen," Jory whispered.

"Aye," she replied. "And I want to thank you, Jory. Thank you for keeping her safe."

* * *

 **I dropped the long-anticipated bomb on that one. If you haven't figured it out already. Nysa Snow is Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.**

 **In this story, Rhaenys is the younger of Rhaegar and Elia's children. I flipped her age around with Aegon, making her closer to Robb and Jon's age. And yes, Prince Rhaegar took his daughter to the Tower of Joy. That is how Lord Stark found her. I always wondered what would happen if it was Rhaenys who survived and not Aegon.**

 **Though I know it would be easier for House Targaryen if it were Aegon, being that he is a male and would carry on their family name. And yes, I had her favor of the Martell looks - like the tanned skin and dark hair. If Jon (following the R+L=J theory, which I plan to do *spoiler alert*) favors House Stark instead of House Targaryen, then I wanted the same with Nysa. She does have blue eyes though but when she is mad, turn violet.**

 **Let me know what you think about this reveal...**

 **Also, because I love House Stark, there will be more talk about the direwolves. I decided that the bond they have will change. Bran, Arya and Jon were said to be able to see through their wolves. I wanted Bran to be able to speak through them. He says things to Summer and then it relates to Ghost and Grey Wind - from direwolf to direwolf. Call it magic.**

 **Let me know what your thoughts are of that...**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Lyra Mormont had rarely left Nysa's side - especially since the attack upon her arrival. Many of those from House Frey stayed away from her. She thought it was Ser Stevron who ensured her safety. Instead, Lyra and Harrion - along with Lady Catelyn - explained that Nysa had scared them away with flames.

She wouldn't believe them. She always needed fire and only used it for healing. It was a gift; Lord Stark had told her. Now, she was learning that House Frey had called her the 'Queen Wolf who breathes fire'. She laughed the title off but Harrion had argued with her about it. He wanted her to use it to her advantage. Harrion and Waylyn wouldn't be able to watch her all the time. And there was only so much that Lyra or Jory could do. If several guards decided to become traitors, a rumor that she could breathe fire would definitely help her.

It had been a couple days since her arrival. After waking, she was ready to explore and visit with Lord Tully. She watched him and Lady Catelyn talk quietly and she wondered if she should use her 'breath of fire' to heal him.

"It doesn't always work that way, does it," Lyra asked as they walked the balconies, overlooking the water. "Your gift," she clarified.

Nysa shook her head. "I wanted to use it to save Bran Stark. Instead, he stayed asleep. I've seen it not only heal but sometimes restore what was lost."

She turned towards Lyra, causing the two of them to stop. Waylyn and Wyl - who were additional guards on duty, paused a discreet distance away. They were assigned to guard her but not to listen in on private conversations - according to Jory.

"The one incident that majority of the North knows of is when I saved Lady Umber. She had some sort of illness - it was spread throughout her body, like a disease, a plague that only she had," Nysa described. "I felt it in her blood. In her blood," Nysa looked frightened as Lyra's brows furrowed in confusion. "Her body was weak, bruised and unstable. I don't know how else to describe it. Ser Stevron had the same sort of illness. They said that nothing could save Lady Umber. And if I hadn't gotten to Ser Stevron in time, the same could be said of him. But you've seen him. And you've seen Lady Umber. Tell me, do they appear to have some sort of sickness?"

Lyra turned her head towards the river and looked out over the water.

"It didn't just take away the sickness. It gave them back something they had lost, something healthy. Lady Sarra was able to bear Lord Umber three more children after that. Ser Stevron fights as well as any of the other knights that are present - perhaps better," Nysa went on as Lyra looked back at her. "It changes something."

"And you wanted to not only heal Bran Stark but help him to walk again, is that it?"

Nysa nodded. "But it didn't work out that way, it didn't work on him at all. I shouted and screamed and almost threw the torch on his bed, just to get the fire to do something - anything," Nysa sighed. "I couldn't do it then. I don't know how it happens or why it chooses to work on some and not others."

Lyra touched her friend's shoulder and smiled comfortingly. "I still believe it to be a gift. If it was a curse, it wouldn't have restored anything to Lady Umber or Ser Stevron. It wouldn't have saved two children of the North, either."

"You know about that?"

"I heard how you saved Gawen Glover and Alys Karstark from Dacey. She told me that the Maester couldn't do anything for them, but you did," Lyra pointed out. "I think that this is a gift from the Gods, Nysa. They allow you to do something that no Maester can learn."

"And what happened out there," Nysa gestured with her head outside of Riverrun, "when I killed men with that fire? Can it be considered a gift from the Gods then?"

"Those men wanted to attack you," Lyra smiled. "And it's not like you slaughtered thousands, Nysa."

"Two men loss their lives. And for what reason," Nysa shook her head.

"To keep the Queen of the North and of the Trident safe," Lyra finished. "Every guard, every soldier, every man who lifts a sword in battle knows that the outcome for him may be death during the battle. A soldier's life is not one of ease and good-health. They knew life was at risk if they drew their blade against their Queen."

"I hardly feel like their Queen," she commented. "Our relationship with House Frey is shaky at best. Many of them are at Harrenhal, some are here, and others are with Robb. But I can guarantee you that Lord Walder Frey would summon them all back if he felt slighted. And considering the reaction I received from his sons and the guards who served them," Nysa shook her head, "I can only imagine what would happen then."

"Did you not hear what they say of you, the Wolf Queen who breathes fire," Lyra laughed and jokingly pushed Nysa's shoulder. "If something should ever happen, you could create a wall of fire around you."

Nysa snorted. "I told you, I don't know how it happens or why."

"Well then, my Queen," Lyra bowed, "isn't that why you have me here? I'll cut off the cocks of any man who dare threaten the Wolf Queen."

"Lyra," Nysa scolded.

"What, I'm a bear of the North."

They both laughed lightly. Lyra took Nysa by the arm and they continued walking the halls. Nysa was glad for her friend's sense of humor in this moment. She still worried about House Frey. But for right now, she would enjoy laughing away her cares.

Behind them, Waylyn smiled at seeing the Queen's good mood. He pushed back from his position on the wall, before gesturing for Wyl to follow along.

* * *

Robb stood next to Daryn, Dacey and Smalljon as they watched Ser Merlon Crakehall lift Stark banners amongst his men. They had learned that Edmure had captured both Lord Crakehall and his second-born son. The eldest died in King's Landing during the Battle at Blackwater. That was one of the reasons why Ser Merlon Crakehall - the youngest of Lord Crakehall's sons was here, swearing fealty to Robb - to ensure that his father and brother would be safe.

"We have some men coming from King's Landing, your Grace," Ser Merlon rode towards him then. A serious and grim expression on his face.

"I know this isn't easy for you, Ser. Thank you," Robb replied.

"Of course, this isn't easy," Ser Merlon gritted through his teeth. "I'm betraying House Lannister. My father was one of Lord Tywin's commanders. My eldest brother went to defend the Red Keep from traitors and would-be Kings. And now I've just given up my House and our men to fight for your cause!"

Daryn and Smalljon went forward but Robb stopped them. "As I mentioned earlier, I know exactly how you feel. I brought men from the North to fight for my father, to protect my sisters," Robb pointed out, "to let everyone know that the North remembers. And the North will always remember how a spoiled boy beheaded an honorable and just man because he felt like it."

"My King," Ser Perwyn called out to him, his horse riding fast.

The guards beside Robb went to move again, forming a blockade. Ser Perwyn brought his horse to a halt and gestured to the men behind him.

"My King, I bring to you Ser Flement Brax - wed to my sister, Morya," Perwyn explained. "We hold his brother, Ser Tytos. With the death of their father, Ser Tytos has become their Lord and heir."

"Aye," Robb nodded in acknowledgement.

"They've ridden here to bend their knee."

Dacey narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you not telling us," she questioned him.

Ser Perwyn shook his head before standing before Robb. "The Crag will bend the knee but Lady Westerling is asking that you come there to accept her surrender. And like Ser Merlon, she is asking to send her son and daughter with us back to Riverrun."

"I don't like this," Smalljon mentioned to Robb in a hushed tone. "We have enough men here in Castamere to defend ourselves and protect you, my King. But this much men from the Westerlands in your Realm?"

Robb sighed. "It seems that my Uncle holds many of them prisoner in Riverrun. They want to see their Lords."

"We must err on the side of caution, your Grace," Smalljon added. "We didn't want any of them in the North. Bringing them to the Riverlands - where your mother, sister and your wife are may prove disastrous."

"I must agree with Smalljon," Daryn nodded towards him. "We've gotten one of your sisters back. And now you have a wife to consider. You must think of their safety."

"And with no word of Winterfell, it best that Riverrun be considered a certain place of safety for our Queen," Smalljon spoke.

"What both of you say is true," Robb considered for a moment before turning towards Dacey. "What about you Lady Dacey?"

"The thought of bringing more men - men who have fought for House Lannister - to Riverrun does have its concerns. First, I think we must speak to Lady Westerling," Dacey replied, "let her know that we cannot take more men that what we've decided is safe. They could turn on us and then we'll have nothing left to do but put their Lords to the sword. You want this to end, don't you, my King?"

"I do," he nodded. "Yes, we will see Lady Westerling first."

* * *

Lady Jayne Bracken had agreed to travel with Nysa as one of her Ladies. She noted quickly that Nysa had to build relations with the river Lords. They knew - and respected - the King because he is the grandson of Lord Tully. House Tully had been serving as their Lord Paramount of the Trident since Aegon had conquered Westeros.

"The King has gained respect for being kin, but there has to be," Jayne paused.

"There has to be," Lyra questioned.

"There has to be more, my Queen," Jayne finished. "There is a rumor that King Joffrey has made Lord Baelish the Lord of Harrenhal, and for his service," she paused again, "he is the Lord Paramount of the Trident."

"How can that be when Robb is the King? Did not the river Lords swear fealty to him," Nysa asked.

"They have, we all have," Jayne nodded her head. "Right now, King Joffrey still believes that the Trident belongs to him. It is merely a title that they have given Lord Baelish. The actual promise, work, all of it," Jayne listed, "it's more than just a name. There's action involved in it. And as I said, House Tully has commanded our allegiance. King Robb must show us why we swore fealty to him."

"That's a pretty bold thing to say to her Grace," Lyra narrowed her eyes.

Jayne turned towards Nysa. "Isn't that why you asked me to become one of your Ladies? To share with you the concerns of the Riverlands? You know the North. You were raised there. The Northern Houses and their Lords hold nothing but admiration for you - minus one or two," she titled her head back and forth. "But you need to do more for the Riverlands, my Queen."

"House Darry has pledged their allegiance to me. So, has House Bracken," Nysa nodded.

"But the others need to see you as their Queen," Jayne commented. "What can you and King Robb do that will protect us, help us, nurture us?"

Nysa thought about it for a moment and nodded in agreement. Lady Catelyn had told her to choose at minimum three young Ladies to help her, guide her. So far, Jayne had been an excellent choice. She was bold and outspoken - the same way as Lyra. And though the two would often clash - their main objective was to ensure that Nysa succeeded as their Queen. And once both had pointed that out - they seemed to let arguments slide every now and then.

What Jayne had indicated was true. Nysa had been so worried about being 'seen' as the Queen in the Westerlands that she didn't grow to learn as much as she could about those in the Riverlands. Young Lord Lyman Darry had said that she was his Queen. But that meant little if the other Lords - who were twice or three times his age - could not see her the same. There was a lot of work to do and she tried not to let it overwhelm her. It was exhausting work getting to know the Houses in the Riverlands. She didn't want them to think that they had been taken for granted - especially since Robb's actions as of late showed he held little concern for House Frey.

Lyra pulled out a sword and tugged the two women behind her.

"What is it," Jayne looked around warily.

"The men up ahead," Lyra gestured. "There's a fight. I should get you and the Queen out of here." She turned around to see Cayn and Wyl approaching fast to aid her.

"Those are men from House Karstark," Nysa pushed her way pass.

"My Queen," Wyl shouted after her to return.

"I must see."

Nysa's heart beat faster, at seeing majority of them with swords in their hands and shouting curses and insults. Did someone harm Harrion? Or was Lord Karstark injured in some way? She hurried quicker for she couldn't lose them. She wasn't certain what she'd do if she loss them as well.

"Stop it," she yelled as Waylyn turned.

An angered expression was on his face at first. Upon seeing their Queen, he relaxed and began pushing the men on the side to get their attention as well. Nysa didn't want a repeat of what happened outside of Riverrun but the way the men pushed and shoved at one another, caused her some distress. She shouldn't have put herself in the middle of this, but she wanted to make sure that Harrion and Lord Karstark were safe.

"What is going on," Nysa questioned as the men stopped. "Is your Lord under attack? I demand to know what is the cause of this!"

"A Lannister!"

The guards parted ways as Nysa saw Lord Karstark throw a body down onto the ground.

"Lannister's killed my sons and now the Lannister's should pay!"

The men began to shout in agreement.

"I want this boy's body to hang!"

Nysa's eyes turned sharply at the body and noted quickly that this was indeed a boy - a young man, probably the same age as Arya or Bran. Bran, she thought. The men began to grab the boy and Nysa watched in horror as another body was pulled out from behind Lord Karstark. There were two. She shook her head and met Harrion's gaze.

"No!"

"Move, girl," Lord Karstark bellowed at her.

Some of the guards started to grab her, panic filled her eyes. Harrion was the first one there, dragging them off her. Waylyn pushed them back as well, telling them to back off their Queen.

"Any man who stands between a father and his vengeance asks for death!"

Nysa moved forward. "It's a good thing then, that I am your Queen!"

"Queen," he snorted. "You would have been Torrhen's wife or did you so quickly forget about that?"

"How dare you! I love your son, Lord Karstark. I love him with every fiber of my being. Why do you think the King has sent me here? Why do you think I'm not by his side," she shouted, not caring who heard about her distress. "Even he knows that my love for Torrhen still burns!"

"If you really did love my son, you'd get out of my way!"

"Killing these boys won't bring him back," she shouted. "They're mere boys!"

"They're Lannisters!"

"I beg of you, Lord Karstark," Nysa gripped the young Lannister to her chest.

"Move, girl!"

He went to lift his sword again, but she lifted her chin in defiance and continued to hold the child. "It was not him who swung the blade. It was not him who took Torrhen away! You are not the only one who wants vengeance for his death! Please, Lord Karstark!"

The sword came down and Nysa turned her head and closed her eyes. A moment of silence fell upon them and quickly looked at the boy in her arms and the other laying a few feet away, ensuring they were unharmed. She gasped as she saw Lord Karstark thrown back on the ground.

"As you said, father," Harrion stood next to her. "She would have been Torrhen's wife!"

Nysa looked up with grateful eyes towards Harrion.

"You stand by..."

"I do," Harrion didn't give his father time to finish. "She saved Alys. She saved mother. There is no one here who has more love for our House than our Queen. She wants vengeance as much as you do. But she wants the Kingslayer, father. Nysa is right. Our Queen is right," he looked around as the angered faces panted in rage. "The Kingslayer is the one who took them away. She won't let him go."

Lord Karstark spat on the ground. "Lady Stark let him go."

"I am not Lady Stark," Nysa stood slowly. "I am your Queen and if the Gods listened to my prayers, I would have been your good-daughter. I know you thirst for blood. I know you hunger for death who have caused your House harm. Believe me when I saw that I do as well. Lord Stark always told me that the North remembers. And I will never forget Torrhen or House Karstark," her lips trembled. "You will get your justice, Lord Karstark."

She paused and turned to look at the young man on the ground.

"But not today and not by killing these boys," Nysa stood taller and whirled around to stare Lord Karstark in the eyes.

There was still anger and hatred in them as he looked from her towards the two Lannisters. He sighed in frustration before gesturing towards some of the guards to follow him. Crisis wasn't truly averted. Nysa noticed that a few of them murmured insults about her promiscuity. She tried her best to ignore them. The rest who stayed behind nodded towards her - a sign of respect.

"They believe that you'll bring justice forth," Harrion stated.

"Thank..."

He turned around to face her, towering over her form as she stood still and waited for his censure. "Torrhen was the first to saddle his horse. Torrhen was the one who rode quickly towards Winterfell we got the raven. My father answered the call to defend Lord Eddard Stark, the call to defend the North. But it was Torrhen who wanted to come here for _you_."

"I know," Nysa looked down and felt the tears fall from her eyes.

"If my father loses faith in that, then he'll lose faith in you. I hope what you said is true, Nysa. The North remembers."

Harrion left her side then, the rest of House Karstark's guards trailing behind him. She closed her eyes in relief as they all departed. Waylyn stayed behind to make sure that she was alright.

"You look pale, my Queen."

"I am alright, Waylyn. Thank you," she nodded towards him.

Waylyn didn't stay long. He barely bothered to help her pick up the two Lannister boys. She didn't blame him. Lyra came to her side and said that House Karstark should be punished for disrespecting their Queen. Nysa decided against it. She thought of Lady Mariah and Alys - who were back North. She heard about the rumors of the Ironborn taking over. There was also no word yet from Lord Bolton regarding his son and the condition of Winterfell. She knew these were distressing times. Any man - even a strong, proud one like Lord Karstark - would have their moments of weakness.

Jayne scrunched up her nose before assisting Nysa with guiding the boys towards the prison they were in. It was hard to help the Lannisters - after what they had done. Jayne reminded her of that. They had destroyed many homes in the Riverlands, including House Bracken. She pointedly reminded Nysa that she and Catelyn were taken from their home by Lannister men, they were prisoners in a Lannister camp.

"And a Lannister helped me to protect you and your sister," Nysa retorted.

"A Lannister would never help those in the Riverlands! Especially since Lady Catelyn took Lord Tyrion and the young Wolf holds Ser Jamie!"

Jayne marched up towards them. "That is where you are wrong! Lannister men tried to kill Lady Catelyn's son. She was merely protecting her own! And here in the Riverlands we defend our children. What House Lannister did was an act of war!"

"You're nothing but a girl! You wouldn't know!"

"I know far more than you!"

"Stop this," Nysa insisted as Jayne huffed and marched out of the prison. "Have you ever been told that it's easier to lure a bee with a sweet flower?"

"And you could easily swat that bee as well," he replied. "What's your point?"

"The point is that this is the Queen of the North and the Trident," Lyra stepped forward. "You do well to show her respect. She just saved your life."

"It certainly wouldn't be the first Lannister I saved," Nysa looked back at Lyra before looking at the two young boys in front of her. "Now that you know who I am, who might you be?"

"Willem," he answered. "Your Grace," he quickly said after the other boy nudged him.

It was obvious that the one farthest in the back heard Lyra's threat. Either that or he quieted down because he saw Lyra's hand on the hilt of her sword.

"There is no need to be so formal with me, Willem," she touched the wound on his forehead, calculating how to tend to it. "And who is your father?"

"Ser Kevan," Willem answered as Nysa's hand paused midair.

"I saw your father in Harrenhal. Why were you not there with him?"

"We had already been captured," the other boy spoke up. Nysa nodded to him. "Martyn, your Grace," he bowed his head.

"Your brother," she gestured to Willem. Martyn confirmed with a small nod. "I met your older brother, Lancel, in King's Landing. He served as a squire for King Robert," she smiled lightly. "He, he was a serious young man - always hoping to gain the King's approval and your father's."

"My father thinks him useless," Martyn said as Willem turned towards him with an irritated expression.

"Every man has their worth," Nysa said. "Now, I will leave the two of you. Someone will be back to look after those wounds and see that you have a meal."

Just as Nysa turned to exit their cell, one of them called out to thank her and called her 'my Queen'.

* * *

The night wore on and it appeared the men were truly enjoying themselves. Robb still felt uneasy about being here and partaking in such activities that Lady Sybell Westerling had prepared for them. Both Daryn and Smalljon had refused to drink the wine here. They had that eerie feeling as well. Ser Perwyn - along with a couple others - was singing with his hand around a maid in his lap. He seemed to be the only one who didn't think that something was odd.

Robb was preparing to retire for the night when he felt a hand tap his shoulder. He turned to see a young woman standing there with Ser Rolph Spicer - Lady Westerling's brother.

"Ser Rolph," Robb bowed his head.

"Your Grace," Ser Rolph nodded, "I don't believe you have met my niece, Lady Jeyne Westerling. She is Lord Gawen's eldest daughter."

"My Lady," Robb bowed his head slightly.

"Your Grace," the young woman smiled before dipping into a low curtsy. "I hope you are enjoying yourself, my King. Have you had enough to drink? Perhaps you would like another cup of wine," she offered, looking up through her lashes.

Robb noticed how she blinked them slowly - almost as though she were trying to seduce him. He shook his head and looked away. "I'm thinking of retiring for the night. Thank you, my Lady."

"You haven't seen our shores, yet, my King," Ser Rolph stopped him from turning away. "Jeyne, would you be so kind to show his Grace the shoreline. He may find it relaxing."

"It is quite alright," Robb protested.

"I insist," Ser Rolph nudged his niece forward.

Robb sighed before reluctantly holding up his hand, gesturing for Lady Jeyne to lead the way and he would follow. Once they were through the doors, he dismissed Smalljon and Daryn. The nearest castles were Banefort and Ashemark. Currently, Robb held those castles. Men from both Banefort and Ashemark had pledge their fealty to Robb. He was in no serious danger.

Slowly he walked through the halls, noticing the light on the young woman's body in front of him. He cursed himself. Why was he noticing such a thing? He was a married man.

"Are you alright, my King?"

Robb's head snapped up to see the young woman peering over her shoulder.

"You seem distracted. I hope that I haven't done anything to catch you unawares," she said turning around slowly to face him.

"I'm thinking of my wife, that's all." He might as well put that out there, right now while he was at it. He gestured again for her to continue leading the way but instead she came forward and stood near enough for him to feel her warmth.

"She must be quite the woman to have wed such a good King as yourself," Jeyne said.

"She is. But I wouldn't know about me being a good King."

"I think you are."

"Thank you. That is kind of you to say."

"And completely true, if I may be so bold," she replied with a nice smile. "I have heard many stories of how deserving you are of the crown."

"You've been keeping track of my short rule," he lifted an eyebrow at her.

Jeyne laughed lightly, and the sound carried to his ears. He tried to stamp it out. But it felt nice to have a young woman flirt with him. "I ask about you whenever I send ravens to other Ladies in other Houses. Their Lord fathers say the same," she took another step forward. "I want to know what kind of man you are."

"How thoughtful of you."

Her fingers reached out and skimmed Robb's arm. "Yes, well my thoughts are always on how I can please my King," she said in a dangerously low and seductive tone.

"I think you are being too familiar with me," Robb took a step back and stared the young woman down. She didn't cower or shy away. Instead she smiled brightly and nodded her head.

"Perhaps we shall have another conversation much later," her voice carried over to him. He gulped and shook his head, looking at anything other than her. Jeyne looked down before turning down the pathway and out of the hallway. Just before she left, she peered over her shoulder and looked at him. "Your wife need never know that you and I spend time together. Neither will she know how much you enjoy it. A thought that I hope you keep in mind."

* * *

Nysa paused and shook her head, the dizziness wearing off as she blinked her eyes. That had been happening a lot lately as she took her daily walk through Riverrun - greeting the various Lords and guards who were there. She made sure to understand who her subjects were. It was an important detail that Jayne had pointed out to her. Two days after the rescue of the Lannister boys, Jayne finally approached Nysa - apologizing for being so rude but not to expect her assistance if it came to the Lannisters that were prisoners.

"Who was that guard that I saw you speaking to earlier," Nysa asked Jayne.

Jayne blushed causing Nysa to pause in their walk. "He's not a guard."

"Then, who is he?"

"Brynden Blackwood, Lord Blackwood's son and heir."

Nysa nodded and continued walking. She had not met Lord Blackwood yet. Many of them were still on the battlefield with Robb or on patrol with Edmure. She had been here for nearly a moon's time and still there was no 'Edmure'. She wondered what he was doing. Perhaps amassing more prisoners for the Riverlands, Nysa thought and sighed heavily. She didn't need to see more captured boys.

Earlier, they had caught three more young Lannister boys. She had heard from Lady Catelyn that her brother, Edmure, boasted and paraded them through the courtyard before throwing them in the cells. He vowed to catch every Lannister child and that had angered Nysa. She went there to speak with Edmure but found that he had already left Riverrun to attack the Westerlands again.

"The two of you appeared to be in an argument," Lyra stated, pulling Nysa out of her musing.

"Our Houses have never agreed on anything, they've always fought against the other," Jayne answered. "Brynden and I, we," she paused and shook her head, "we were merely discussing the importance of House Frey's loyalty to the Queen."

"It is shaky at best," Nysa nodded. "Does Brynden have any thoughts that seem practical?"

"Not really," Jayne responded. "Just concerns, your Grace," she said before turning towards Nysa. "One of Lord Frey's sons is married to a Lannister - Lord Tywin's sister to be exact. They've captured her son, Tion."

"He is one of the boys they brought in this morning," Lyra looked at Nysa.

"Do you think that Lord Frey will respond, knowing that we have one of his grandsons as prisoner instead of..."

"I think that you have cause to worry, my Queen," Jayne replied before she could finish. "I trust," another pause as she glanced over her shoulder quickly. "I trust Brynden, your Grace. He said his father would fight for you, regardless of what House Frey decides. King Robb was able to give many of us back our homes. But with as many sons and daughters that he has, he also has many kin who fight for House Lannister."

Nysa sighed again and felt that overwhelming dizzy sensation nag at her again. She closed her eyes and swayed a bit before Lyra steadied her. "Nysa?"

"I am alright," she touched Lyra's hand before shaking her head again. "There's just so many decisions to make, so many Lords to meet and placate."

"Isn't that why I'm here," Jayne smiled at her, "to help advise you?"

"It is," Nysa nodded before she turned to see Lady Catelyn walking towards her. Several guards surrounded her and for a moment, Nysa wondered why. She thought she made it clear that at Riverrun there was no need to keep Lady Catelyn - who had been acting as Lady of Riverrun - as a prisoner. "Thank you, Desmond. You are all dismissed for today."

"But the King..."

"The King is not here," Nysa snapped. "Please leave Lady Catelyn to me," she said in a gentler tone, nodding to each guard as they left. "Lady Catelyn," Nysa gave a small but quick curtsy. "I haven't seen you for some time. Is your father well?"

"That's why I sought you out. My father," she paused and looked down. "My Uncle has just spoken with him now."

Nysa smiled lightly. "That's good. You were hoping that they'd reconcile."

"Yes, I..."

Lady Catelyn seemed apprehensive to finish her statement. She didn't appear as composed as she normally was. Though these were troublesome times and most suppers were filled with worry - worry for Robb, worry for Bran and Rickon, worry for Sansa, and lately worry for the reason why Arya was spending so much time in the yard with the smith. Right now, it looked as though the worry were hundred-fold and that was of great concern for Nysa. She didn't want Lady Catelyn to become disheartened.

"We will give the two of you some privacy," Lyra said as she bowed her head and turned away. Jayne did the same, except with a curtsy.

Looking about the yard, she noticed that a few of the House Tully guards were distraught. Nysa stepped forward to ask what was happening. Before she could open her mouth, a bell began ringing loudly. Nysa looked around again in panic. Were they under attack? What had happened?

Lady Catelyn dropped to her knees then and began to sob. Nysa fell to meet her good-mother and hold her in her arms. She held Lady Catelyn close and the older woman began to cry and mumbled incoherent words. A minute later, a guard approached and delivered the news.

"I'm sorry, my Queen. Lord Hoster Tully has passed."

* * *

"Have you written to him," Lady Catelyn asked as her good-daughter nodded.

"Jory said that the last news of Robb's whereabouts put him at the Crag. He was back at Castamere but I'm certain once he hears the news he'll come back," Nysa commented. "I had the pleasure of meeting Ser Brynden."

"I do not even know why they quarreled," Lady Catelyn smiled lightly, moving a hand to wipe her cheeks. "My father and his brother, Ser Brynden. Sometimes, that happens. You disagree on something for so long and by the time you decide to resolve you forget why you hold so much resentment in the first place." She laughed and looked at Nysa. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"You're allowed to have your moments of weakness, Lady Catelyn."

Catelyn turned and regarded her good-daughter carefully. "You look different."

"I am tired a lot. Speaking to the River Lords and ensuring that the Northern Lords are still cared for is an arduous task," Nysa admitted.

Catelyn hummed, "tell me about your concerns."

"I highly doubt that you'd desire to speak of them now."

"Please," she insisted.

Nysa took a moment to calm her nerves and choose the right words. "Lord Karstark has stopped speaking to me. He barely acknowledges me. Lyra insists that House Karstark be punished for their Lord's behavior, but I find that they have suffered enough punishment. We still wait for Lord Bolton's son to give us news of Winterfell, of Bran and Rickon. My Uncle is dead, I know not what happened to his daughter," Nysa looked down. "She is all the kin that Jory and I have left."

"We will get Winterfell back. And despite all that has happened, my sons and your cousin may still be alive. We've prayed to the Gods, Nysa. Leave it in their hands," Catelyn said gently. "What else is there?"

Nysa sighed and shook her head.

"Tell me, please."

"Robb sent me here, we argued the last time we saw one another. All we do is argue. His ravens are brief and far from letters of love. And I am so exhausted," Nysa closed her eyes. "Not just about the fighting but it seems as though nothing I do as his Queen is right. I don't know if I can do it - not with us arguing the way we do. It feels like I'm so alone. This isn't what I pictured marriage to be."

Catelyn pushed off her seat and walked to where her good-daughter sat. She touched Nysa's cheek lightly before skimming her arm. There were subtle differences - sure signs of it. Nysa did look exhausted - mentally, emotionally and physically. That could be the stress but that could also be something else. The joy of carrying a child was often filled with tiresome days. Catelyn wanted to be certain.

"Nysa, when was the last time you had your moon's blood?"

The young Queen's eyes opened and regarded the older woman before her.

"My Uncle - Ser Brynden - once told me that where one river ends, another one begins," she said with a light expression. An old saying in the Riverlands, that when someone passed it was to make room for new life in the House.

Nysa sat there - still bewildered about what Lady Catelyn was attempting to convey to her. It couldn't be possible. She had only lain with Robb twice. Although, many would argue that it takes only once. Nysa looked away from Lady Catelyn at the thought that just entered her mind.

"My darling girl, it is wonderful to be so quickly blessed."

She shook her head and began to sob. Oh, the injustice of it all. Nysa touched her swelling stomach. There had been a hardness to it, as though it were filling out, but she couldn't discern what it was. And she had demanded that Hot Pie make her all sorts of foods to eat - change in appetite. There was the tiredness and exhaustion as well. No, she thought. I can't be with child.

For a moment - very brief moment - she had hoped that she wasn't with child, hoped that she wasn't carrying Robb's heir. In the briefest of moments, she had pictured herself in Karhold, carrying a babe with deep brown hair and watching as Torrhen peered over the two of them, lovingly approving of mother and child.

 _You would have been Torrhen's wife or did you so quickly forget about that?_

Nysa hated herself then and turned towards her good-mother, throwing her arms about her neck. These were distressing times, indeed. And people were allowed their moments of weakness. But as a Queen, she wasn't so sure she was allowed that. No, she thought burying her head into Lady Catelyn's warm and comforting motherly embrace. No one would forgive her if they knew she had hoped that the child she carried was Torrhen's and not Robb's.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"She does spend an awful lot of time with him," Catelyn noted as she looked out the window.

"Who," Nysa asked.

"Arya."

Nysa moved to sit closer to Lady Catelyn. Ser Brynden smiled at the dynamics between the two. Something had shifted since Lord Tully's passing. He was not certain what it was but the two women shared a secret. Perhaps it was the longing for Robb to return or waiting to hear news of what had become of Winterfell. Either way, he knew they were eager for something to arrive.

"I thought that once we found you and Robb that she'd settle down. I had disproved of their friendly demeanor on our journey," Nysa confessed as she rubbed her stomach, "but my brother said that she needed a friend. If you wish for me to speak to her..."

"There is no need," Catelyn said gently, smiling as Nysa admired her stomach.

There was a slight difference - a very small difference that could be seen. She just hardly noticed it. And neither did anyone else except Lady Catelyn. She was terribly exhausted and nervous. She had believed that was due to her learning to become a Queen, adapting to a change of lifestyle.

"What do you know of him," Ser Brynden asked.

"He is from King's Landing," Nysa replied. "He was traveling with Yoren - a man from the Night's Watch. I assumed that he was going to take up the Black. But Jory said that Yoren asked to give him protection."

"Protection," the Blackfish turned to her.

Nysa nodded. "While we were still in the Crownlands, two goldcloaks had come across our party. At first, Arya and I thought that they were searching for her, for us. But they asked for Gendry."

"And do you know why?" Nysa shook her head. "Does your brother," Ser Brynden questioned.

"You would have to ask him, Ser."

"He looks so familiar." They both turned to see Catelyn who found herself staring at the two figures outside of Riverrun once again. "As though I've seen him before," she thought before glancing at Nysa.

There wasn't much time to ponder on Lady Catelyn's musing as a knock sounded on the door. "Lord Edmure has returned," Jory entered the room.

" _Lord_ Edmure," Ser Brynden shook his head.

"I would very much like to meet him," Nysa stood with a smile. "Please bring him to Lady Catelyn's room, Jory."

"Of course, my Queen," he smiled in return, bowing his head.

Nysa had spoken to Lyra, Jayne, Arya, Gendry and especially Jory about the title of Queen. While they were alone, she saw no need for it. Lyra had always been a dear friend. And slowly Jayne was becoming accustomed to treating Nysa as though they had been friends since they were babes. Gendry refused to look at her in the eyes, stating that she was a Queen now. Nysa insisted that he enter the hall for his meals and that he sit at the table with Jory and the other guards. She would make him a knight soon enough. And Arya - though loving the idea of everyone calling her Princess and bowing to every whim - was always uncertain as to what she should call Nysa. It had always been 'Nysa' - just plain, simple Nysa.

She was about to remind her brother that there was no need for such formalities but then his eyes shifted to Ser Brynden as if to tell her that they were not alone. Other than Ser Stevron - Ser Brynden had also been determined that everyone in the Riverlands knew that she was their Queen and that she be addressed as such. Nysa smiled at her brother's thinking before nodding for him to leave.

"I'll leave with you," Ser Brynden spoke up quickly. "I want to have a word with his lordship before he comes in to see his Queen and her good-mother."

After they departed, Nysa smiled at Catelyn. "Good-mother," she said as Catelyn gestured for her to come stand at her side. "It hardly seems fair to call you that after that attitude that I displayed. I am sorry for my behavior earlier at Harrenhal."

"Only if you forgive me as well, Nysa. I dismissed your feelings and thoughts, not just then but also here."

"You were occupied with thoughts of your father," Nysa began to protest but Catelyn stopped her.

"During times like this, we must work together, support one another."

"Still, I could have handled myself better. You were correct. Lady Mariah taught me better. Lady Sarra and Lady Sybelle instructed me." She paused and smiled kindly at Lady Catelyn. "You guided me. After speaking to Gendry, he told me that it wasn't proper - the way I yelled at the woman who raised me. You cared for me. You made sure that I was never left wanting. You took me in without argument."

Catelyn smiled softly. "There was a small argument, I assure you. However, it didn't last long. Ned and I learned to work together, quite quickly," she said with a light laugh.

Nysa felt grief-stricken suddenly. She and Robb had many arguments and they lasted long - so lengthy was their disagreement that he sent her to Riverrun. As if sensing her good-daughter's thoughts, Catelyn touched her arm soothingly.

"My own mother died when I was very young. Lysa and I grew up without womanly guidance. I understand how conflicted you feel during these early stages of marriage. It was difficult to know what was proper and what was not when becoming a Lady."

"I find that hard to believe," Nysa looked at her. "I've met many Ladies, from Great Houses attending the King's court. None of them have been more honorable or generous as you."

"I did what I could with what I was given and you will do the same," Catelyn touched her shoulder before looking out the window. "You and Robb will learn to settle your differences. If not right away, it will take time. He is his father's son. And Ned - though stubborn at times - had a kind heart. Whatever argument you are having will pass."

"He's been gone a long time. Anything could..."

"Love could grow in that time," Catelyn said.

 _***Flashback***_

 _Catelyn picked up her skirts and hurried towards the door. Lysa had already left ages ago to the Vale. Catelyn did not think that she would have to wait this long for her husband to return. Her father had told her that this was war, this is what happened when husbands went to battle. But he did not know of the promises whispered the night before. Catelyn grabbed at her robe near her chest and smiled as the memories of her husband Eddard Stark rushed through her mind. A blush appeared on her cheeks then. He had been loath to part from her in the morning. They had made love once more with the sky lit and that time there was no pain, there was only pleasure to be had._

 _"Cat!"_

 _"Father," she looked down in embarrassment upon seeing her father, Lord Hoster Tully, smiling at her. A Lady should have been thinking about such illicit thoughts. The smile on her father's face though told her that he knew she was desperate to see her husband._

 _"I never thought I'd say these words to you," he stepped closer as she finally looked at him. He placed his hands on her shoulder and smiled widely. He was such a serious man since her wedding, since his brother had left. But he had his moments with her recently where she was reminded of how loving a father he could be. "But banners are approaching, your husband has come for you."_

 _She hurried towards the hall where Eddard - no, it is Ned Stark - would be entering._

 _"Ned," he whispered. "My family called me Ned," his lips ghosted over hers. "You are my family now."_

 _The memory was still fresh, though it happened a year ago. Maybe it had been longer. She could not tell. All she knew was that it was too long. She had not thought that she would have come to care for him as she did - at least not that quick and in such a short time. It was different with Ned. Catelyn nodded to herself as though to confirm her thoughts. Yes, it was going to be different with Ned as her husband. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as the doors opened._

 _She caught sight of him before he did of her. "Ned," she gasped in joy._

 _He turned then and smiled. Catelyn rushed towards him only to stop a few feet away and dip into a curtsy. She was a lady after all. Eddard Stark scoffed lightly before closing the distance quickly. "Enough of that. I've missed my wife," he practically growled as she lept forward into his waiting arms. He picked her up and twirled her around. Her laughter filling the hall along with a few chuckles of passing attendants and guards. "The Gods know how much I've missed you," he murmured in her hair._

 _"You must be tired or hungry," she pulled back. "I can have something made for my lord husband."_

 _He reached a hand up to push her soft luscious hair from her face. He did not like the tears that were there. Yes, he had been away from her for too long. "I shall be with my lady wife right now."_

 _"My Lord," she squealed as he picked her up. "This is highly improper for a..."_

 _She was silenced with a deep kiss as he walked them towards her room. The closer to her room they moved, the more passionate his kisses had become. They had just made it to the door when she heard a group of giggles come from down the hall. Surely the maids would see. They would talk in the morning._

 _"They will talk of how much Lord Stark missed his Lady wife," he assured her as the door was closed._

 _Word must have reached her father that they were not to be disturbed. Word must have reached someone because the two of them had enjoyed a very blissful moment wrapped up in each other, being husband and wife. She realized how wanton she was behaving, lying bare with a man in her bed - giggling at the kisses he left on her neck. As if he could read her mind, he reminded her that they were husband and wife. Nothing was wrong with enjoying the pleasure that was to be had from one another._

 _"We must get up," she weakly pushed at his chest. In truth she did not want to leave. She had missed him._

 _"Must we," he questioned pressed her back into the bed._

 _"No, my Lord Stark," she laughed and made to sit up. "Do not tempt me."_

 _"You are the one tempting me," he bit softly at her shoulder._

 _She sighed and was just about to let him have her again until a knock came at their door. "My Lady Catelyn," a maid spoke softly from the other side. "The babe has awaken."_

 _Catelyn really pushed at Ned then, quickly dressing herself. She smiled at the sight of her husband doing the same. He had yet to meet his son. She took his hand before he had finished and they both smiled at one another. "Your son awaits," she couldn't help but glow at her husband._

 _Ned had just about shouted that he loved her. He knew that he missed her, he knew that he had come to desire her, care about her and would do anything to protect her. She had gave him a son. His father, his brother and his sister were lost. But now, the Stark name would live on because of her._

Nysa was blushing at the end of that story. Catelyn wore a secret smile. "Love was not something born while we exchanged our vows. It grew with time. And along with that came patience and understanding, compassion and humility. That will happen for the two of you."

"I could only pray that it does."

"I think it will," Catelyn looked out at Riverrun, remembering that day she was reunited with Ned so vividly. "This is the window I waited at - with Robb in my arms - for Ned's return," she said, "it feels odd that now I sit here with Robb's wife as we wait for him to return."

Nysa looked down, feeling guilty and frustrated with herself.

"What is it," Catelyn asked, glancing at her.

Nysa was prepared to shook her head but the determined look on Lady Catelyn's face told her that she would end up explaining her feelings one way or another. Taking a deep sigh, she looked out the window.

"A part of me wishes it was Torrhen I was waiting for, the same part still yearns for him," Nysa said as Catelyn's heart broke for her son. "When you told me that I could be with child, I thought of Torrhen. Oh, please forgive me Lady Stark," she pleaded, grabbing onto the older woman's arm. "I did not mean it. I did not wish to bring dishonor or ill-intent towards House Stark. I..."

Catelyn brought Nysa into her arms and rubbed the young Queen's back. Nysa had felt like such a fool. Why did she admit such a thing to Lady Catelyn? They were bonding and then she had to go and spoil it with speaking about her dead betrothed.

"May I remind you that I was betrothed as well," Catelyn said as Nysa pushed back and looked at her good-mother with tears on her face.

Yes, Lady Catelyn was far better than all the other Ladies Nysa had met and seen. Nysa felt like the older woman understood her, that despite her shouting at Lady Catelyn and disrespecting her - that Lady Catelyn had found it in her heart to forgive Nysa for that. It was more than she deserved.

"I will always be sorry for that," Catelyn touched her cheek. "Sorry that you know the same pain I felt. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

"Did you wish that sometimes he were..."

"Once, maybe twice," Catelyn admitted, not needing Nysa to ask her question. "I never regretted my marriage to Ned or the life that we had together."

"But Brandon was your betrothed, surely you thought the two of you..."

"I didn't love Brandon, at least not the type of love that I grew to have with Ned. I did think of Brandon fondly though, what our life would have been like together," Lady Catelyn smiled. "But I didn't know him as my husband. I knew him as my betrothed. They are two very separate things, Nysa. Brandon was charming and strong. And also very handsome," she smiled shyly before turning fully towards her good-daughter. "Ned had his own qualities that allowed me to love him, care for him and build a life together. I know you thought well of the young Karstark."

Nysa nodded. "I miss him. I think that being his wife might have been..."

"Don't do that, Nysa. It won't help you. It won't help Robb. The moment that I was married to Ned, I put similar thoughts on the side. Ned became my husband, the father of my children, the Lord of my home. And in time, I grew to love Ned deeply."

"We're always so angry with one another," Nysa cried. "How can I bring a child into this world when his or her parents can barely stand one another?"

"In time, love will come for you and Robb. You need to be sure to put him first. And those thoughts of Torrhen, Nysa," she moved to kiss her forehead, "they'll never go away but they will get easier. Keep those beautiful memories to help you, encourage you but never use them against creating memories with Robb."

* * *

Jon stood west of Karhold. It had taken them a few days to ride here but the journey was not a waste. He knew how his father would have reacted to such a plea. He knew how Nysa would have reacted as well. He had no doubt that somehow Ghost - or Bran - whoever was truly behind it, was keeping him here for Nysa's sake. Jojen had said that there was a bond there, he could see it.

"We are the same," Jon muttered as Jojen narrowed his eyes in confusion. "We are both Snow," Jon clarified.

Jojen said it was something else, he was certain of it. But whatever it was, it was too far for him to see. Osric and Ronnel still thought to be wary of the young man. One thing was sure regarding House Reed - it wasn't Jojen that Jon was scared of.

Meera Reed came to stand next to him then, smiling with approval as the last of the Ironborn's bodies had been burned. It was Meera who made Jon nervous. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. She was quick and agile, he noted as they had crept up on the Ironborn and subdued them. When it came time to execute the Ironborn - something Jon was sure he would do - Meera had mentioned an old tale she heard from her father. It was something that the Ironborn believed in, that the drowned gods would rescue the bodies of those who served them.

"That's why they send their dead out onto the sea," Meera gestured with her head.

And so they were killed on land, burned on land.

The rider from Karhold said that the Ironborn were searching for their lost Prince. Jon was searching for him, too.

After Theon couldn't be found, they began to attack Karhold. House Karstark was operating on such a small amount of guards that Jon was impressed they were able to withstand such an attack.

The last three Ironborn soldiers had begun to beg Jon to spare their lives, that the Princess Yara Greyjoy only wanted her brother to come back home. That was the only reason they were here. They had already searched Winterfell - when they heard that the Northmen were coming from Deepwood Motte and before Jon had arrived there. But Theon had not been found in Winterfell. Even Jon had looked for him. Osric had men from House Umber search among the wounded and the dead - just to be sure. He wasn't there. And even if he was, his sister Yara knew better than to ask Jon for his 'safe' return home.

"She wants mercy."

"There was no mercy for my brothers," was all Jon said before he hung two of the men.

The last man stood there and watched as the Ironborn soldiers swung on the rope. He shook his head and looked back at Jon. "Do it! End it already!"

"Not for you," Jon mentioned and nodded towards Meera.

Meera pulled back her bow and released the arrow, shooting the rope that the soldier had been attached to. Several guards from Karhold had joined them by then and watched as Jon pulled the Ironborn up.

"You're letting him go," asked one of the guards from House Karstark.

"You will tell your _Princess_ that I want her brother dead."

"She doesn't know where he is. She doesn't..."

He was silenced as Meera hit him across the face with the blunt end of her spear. Jon had to hand it to her, she was efficient with both the bow and her weird-looking spear. Her long brown hair blew past her face, showing the smile of confidence in how she handled her weaponry.

"You will tell your her that she is no longer welcomed here in the North, her brother, her father or any other Ironborn who thinks they can come here to our home. If she so much as decides to set foot in my brother's Kingdom, it will be because her father will bend the knee and to see that Theon Greyjoy is hanged from Winterfell's gates - the same way he hung my brothers," Jon demanded before kneeling in front of the man. "I am the son of Eddard Stark. He helped halt an Ironborn rebellion once. As his son, I plan on doing it again. Do you think you can tell her that?"

The man swallowed and nodded. "Aye."

Osric nodded his head as the man was placed on a small boat and pushed off of the shore. "Well said, Jon Snow."

Jon took in a deep breath and watched the man sail away. Those were more than just mere words to Jon. It wasn't a simple threat. No, it certainly was not. Jon meant it. If he ever saw Theon again, he'd hang him from the walls - whether Bran or Rickon were alive. Thinking of those words, he kept them near to him.

 _You may not have my name. But you have my blood._

Jon would protect the North just as his father had.

* * *

The raven had been received in Castamere and almost immediately Robb departed and made his way towards Riverrun. Ser Merlon Crakehall - along with a hundred of House Crakehall's guards - Lady Jeyne Westerling and her brother, Ser Raynald Westerling and their Uncle, Ser Rolph Spicer accompanied his party back to the Riverlands. Smalljon and Daryn eyed all of them warily. House Brax and House Banefort had pulled all their men away from the battle - with the promise that Lord Edmure Tully would no longer raid their lands.

Robb would have to discuss that with his Uncle. Of course, he'd wait for the opportune time. Right now, this was a time to grieve. Robb did not know his grandfather - only that the man had been ill for some time. His mother spoke fondly of him and despite their unsteady relationship at the moment, he knew that he should be there for her.

Riverrun was a beautiful sight as he rode towards the bridge. He wondered then about Nysa and if she would be present to welcome him back.

Work with her, the words echoed in his head. How could he repair their relationship? They had been the best of friends during their childhood in Winterfell. How did it go all wrong? His heart beat faster as he entered the yard, several of the men shouting and cheering for his arrival. His gazed narrowed in on the front steps and immediately his heart lurched. Nysa was not there.

"Welcome back, your Grace," Jory Cassel nodded to him.

Robb dismounted from his horse and bowed his head in response before looking about the yard. "My wife?"

"She isn't feeling well at the moment, my King," Jory answered.

"What could have possibly kept her from greeting her King," a voice came from behind Robb. Jory peered behind him to see a young woman - a pretty young woman - had strolled up and had linked her hand through Robb's. His eyes narrowed before turning back to Robb.

The King cleared his throat and unlaced his hand from the woman's. "Jory, this is Lady Jeyne Westerling from the Crag. We are holding her father as one of our guests."

"Prisoners, you mean," Jory added.

Robb took a deep breath. "Yes," his voice was soft. "Lady Jeyne, this is Jory Cassel. He is the captain of the guards."

"And your wife's brother," Jory interjected.

"Yes."

Was that all he was going to say, Jory thought. He looked over at the young Lady again, her smile and eyes seemed to belong to the King at this moment. Was Robb ready to cast his sister aside so quickly? He thought then about the news he learned this morning after the Queen had fainted - his sister was expecting a child, the King's child. Wyl had carried her up the Maesters. Lady Catelyn had said that this was normal and that she had just been overworked. But Jory stayed there - even after everyone had departed and demanded to see Nysa. He discovered the news from the two of them but had been sworn to secrecy. Obviously, Nysa and Lady Catelyn wanted the King to find out before anyone else. And yet, here was the King with another woman.

Ser Stevron watched the young woman warily as well. That was rather quick that the King had taken on a mistress - especially since he claimed to be in love with his wife. Ser Stevron turned towards Jory Cassel to see how he would defend his sister.

"Could you show me to my father, your Grace," Lady Jeyne lifted her hand again.

"I will have some of the guards take you there," Jory stepped in.

The young Lady went to open her mouth but this time Ser Stevron decided to speak up - a fierce need to defend the Queen. "We are all glad that you are here, my King. The men can see to it that the Lady sees her father and perhaps her own guards can escort her there," he looked past them. "And if I'm allowed to speak freely, my King?"

Robb didn't want to upset House Frey further, so he nodded.

"Your mother is grieving the loss of her father and your wife is ill. You have a duty to family first, your Grace."

"Aye," Robb nodded his head.

"And you are," the young woman looked at him with confusion.

"Lady Jeyne, my name is Ser Stevron Frey. I am one of the Queen's personal guards."

"Personal guards," Robb questioned, causing Jory's anger to grow.

"Yes, my King. These are dangerous times. I suggest that you see to your wife. Now."

* * *

Nysa sat up quickly from the bed, joy and happiness filling her the moment that Robb walked into the room. She was anxious to share this news with him. Her smile dropped immediately upon seeing that he had a guest with him - a female guest. Lady Catelyn stood up from Nysa's side and scowled at the young woman in the room. Behind them were four men - all of them wearing the sigil of House Westerling. Nysa remembered it from her lessons. She knew that Robb had gone there because they were to pledge their fealty to him but she couldn't account for the reason why there was a young woman standing close to her husband - so very, intimately close.

"Robb," Lady Catelyn spoke first. "We are sorry we could not greet you but..."

"He is your King, surely he demands respect," the young woman spoke.

"I beg your pardon," Nysa couldn't tear her eyes away from her, or perhaps it was the space - or lack thereof - between this woman and Robb.

She went to respond but Nysa quickly put up her hand.

"I am the Queen of the North and the Queen of the Trident. Before I was, Lady Catelyn Stark held the title of Lady of Winterfell, the Queen Mother. And she currently has decided to act as Lady of Riverrun. Since you are a guest in our lands, you will address us as such," Nysa told her.

"Of course, my Queen," she curtsied.

"And who might you be, my Lady?"

"This is Lady Jeyne Westerling from the Crag," Robb introduced her. Nysa noticed that she shied back when Nysa spoke to her. It was either that or the heated gaze that Lady Catelyn pinned her with. But the moment that Robb spoke up for her, she returned to his side. "I was told that you weren't feeling well," Robb stepped forward, walking towards her bedside.

"Leave," Nysa looked up at him.

Robb appeared shocked and albeit a bit hurt. "Nysa, I haven't seen you in..."

"Not you," she interrupted before her eyes lowered. She watched with satisfaction as that Lady Jeyne shied away again. "Her."

Her satisfaction grew when Robb turned to the young Lady and nodded for her to leave. There was a moment of silence as Robb stood in the middle of the room. His mother was by Nysa's side, staring at him with distaste before sighing heavily. Robb noticed movement toward the side.

"My King," a tall, older knight bowed. "My name is Ser Brynden. The last time I saw you, you were but a babe. And now," he smiled, "you stand here before me as a King. I've heard of your victories and we've been honored to assist you in any way we can. Although, it's saddened me that we've met under such circumstances, your Grace."

Robb bowed his head. "I have heard many stories of you as well, Ser Brynden. My mother speaks of you which such fondness. I am sorry for your loss," he added before turning towards his mother, "both of you. If there's anything I can do..."

"We will leave you to speak with your wife," Catelyn said quickly and walked towards her son. She placed a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly before departing after Ser Brynden.

Nysa looked at Robb with suspicious eyes before turning to lay on her side.

A Lady? A pretty, young Lady? A tear slipped from her cheek then. She was grateful that she had turned the other way on the bed - she didn't want him to see her crying over him. Was she too late to fix things with Robb? Had she been pining for Torrhen for so long that Robb gave up any hope on her? And what about their child? She decided that she wouldn't tell him then, couldn't inform him of the life they had created. She didn't want him to know. Not when he was with another.

"I hear that you've been ill," Robb cleared his throat.

She felt a dip in the bed and knew that he had sat down by her side. Her hand moved to her stomach again and she closed her eyes. "Aye."

"You have personal guards now," Robb asked.

"You did ask that I choose someone."

"I did," he agreed. "Is there any other business I should know of?"

Always business with him. Was that how it would be? She remembered Lady Catelyn's advice and tried not to think of how Torrhen would have answered. She knew - and had definitely seen - there were women who had lain with Torrhen in his bed. Her heart knew sadness, knew what it felt like to yearn for someone who didn't return your affections. Was she so consumed with other things that she didn't think of putting Robb first?

No, she thought. This works both ways. He has to give a little as well.

"House Frey has been fickle at times," she mumbled. They have been plotting to end my life and your child's - she thought to add but decided against it. Nysa noted a slight growl and thought that Grey Wind had entered the chambers. "Ser Stevron has been kind and watchful."

"Good," Robb responded with a bite to his tone.

"And I had a disagreement with Lord Karstark."

"What did he do," Robb growled this time - louder than his wolf.

"Nothing of importance," she wiped at her face before he would see the wetness. "Harrion and I settled it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she attempted to laugh. "You worry too much."

"You are my wife," he replied and Nysa allowed hope to grow - hope that they could fix this.

"Can you lay with me here, my husband," she asked.

She waited to see if he would oblige her. For a moment Nysa almost felt foolish. Surely there were things that needed to be done, Lords to meet with, funeral arrangements to be made. She remembered Lady Catelyn's memory - Lord Stark's return to her after such an absence. Nysa wanted that, craved that. She waited with bated breath as she heard Grey Wind shuffle further inside and lay down at the foot of their bed. Robb slowly turned his body, shifting until he lay right next to her.

He wrapped his arm around her and held her close to him, not bothering to take off his cloak or any other clothes. _Work with her_ , he remembered and saw this as a sign from the Gods that this could work. They could still be King and Queen - together. He felt her warmth hit him like a thousand arrows, pinning him to her side. Robb heard Nysa's sigh of content and felt her body relax against his.

"I've missed you," Robb mumbled into her hair before resting his head back against the feathered cushions.

Nysa was already asleep.

* * *

Jon walked alongside Lady Mariah Karstark. Her daughter Alys, following closely behind. He had met the Lady before as well as the young girl who seemed to smile shyly at him. He remembered Nysa encouraging the young girl to dance with all of the Stark boys at a feast a couple years back. She had taken to Bran the most. But it appeared that she had grown some and was now looking with eagerness at him. Not used to the attention, Jon gulped nervously before turning away from young Alys Karstark to look ahead.

"Do you suppose they'll stay away," Lady Karstark questioned.

"It's hard to tell what they think of," Jon answered. "It is best to be prepared, my Lady."

Ghost had run into the woods with Meera some time earlier, making sure that there were no other Ironborn hiding about around Karhold.

"I received raven from Lady Glover about the assistance that you have given and I must say that I was grateful to hear you had taken Winterfell back," Lady Karstark commented then.

"Perhaps it was done a bit too late, my Lady," Jon admitted.

"I have also heard a rumor that Bran and Rickon Stark are still alive."

"Aye," he answered but didn't clarify any further. "They are unfounded rumors at present. People are saying that the bodies did not belong to them but boys from a nearby village that Theon Greyjoy had killed."

Lady Karstark shook her head. "Those savages," she snorted. "I remember telling Nysa once not to listen to that squid."

Jon chuckled at that. "Lady Catelyn had called him the same thing as well. Theon could make Nysa laugh and," he paused, "and he could make her cry as well. She told Nysa that she had more nobility than," Jon smiled.

"Than that squid," she finished. "Speaking of the young Nysa - one must wonder, Jon Snow," Lady Karstark stopped then and turned to face him, "why it is that you have not rode South to help save her?"

"Nysa needs saving, too," Alys spoke softly, almost in pain as though they believed her to be dead as well.

There was something that Jon pondered about everyday. His goal at first had been to avenge his father, fight against King Joffrey and House Lannister, save his sisters who were stuck in King's Landing. Nysa had been foremost on his mind lately. But the memory of Ghost looking at him - with Bran's eyes - warning him that 'she would need him here', kept him in the North - made him believe that she was alive and well.

"Our King fights for her," Jon stated. "I fight to protect the North. I have a feeling that she wouldn't want me to leave it abandoned."

"I have a feeling that you are right," Lady Karstark replied. "I received news from my husband that Eddard and Torrhen have fallen in battle."

Jon sobered quickly. He knew that there had to have been some fallen men. After all, this was war. But to hear of Torrhen Karstark's death and knowing what that would mean to Nysa - he took a moment to gather his thoughts and turned his attention back to Lady Karstark.

"I'm certain that Nysa would want vengeance for them as well as her Uncle." Jon nodded. "When Ser Rodrik came here and said that the North had to be protected from an Ironborn invasion, I gave him men so readily. And now with two sons gone," she paused and sadly nodded her head, "we must do all that we can to protect what is left."

"Yes, we do," Jon agreed. "And there is still much left to fight for, Lady Karstark. The Gods are good. They'll see us through this."

* * *

A small tear fell from Nysa's eyes as she watched the scene in front of her. Lyra told her not to watch. Ser Stevron had agreed and told them to take another path that would not lead her towards the front yard of Riverrun. But she was used to inflicting this type of self-harm, she supposed.

"She is pretty, but not that pretty so as to tempt me."

Nysa wiped her face quickly and turned to her intruder. Narrowing her eyes, she studied the man in front of her. He looked familiar but she couldn't place him. Studying, his armor, she knew he was from the Westerlands. Beyond that, she couldn't tell. That is when he bowed and smiled.

"Am I so easy to forget? We met in King's Landing. We danced during the feast held in Lord Stark's honor," he informed her.

"I find it rather disturbing to recall thoughts of my visit to King's Landing," Nysa turned away.

The man walked away from the entryway and turned to lean against the wall, opposite of Nysa. She didn't appreciate the way his eyes regarded her. Looking back towards the yard, Nysa's gaze followed Jeyne and Robb as they sat closely together and spoke about...

Gods, she didn't know what they were speaking of, but she wanted to get her bow and shoot the Lady with it.

"He has many a things on his mind, doesn't he? The King," the man said.

"There are no doubt many anxieties that plague my husband at the moment," Nysa admitted, "none of which concern you."

"So, you did become his Queen? When I heard that the maiden I had danced with at King's Landing had become the Queen of the North, I hardly could believe it."

"Well believe it because it is true," she snapped. "What are you doing here?"

"Your husband holds my father and brother as his prisoner."

"You came with Lady Jeyne?"

"No," he answered. "Her brother spends his time with their father, making sure that he is well. And yet Ser Raynald's sister spends her time with the King, while the Queen watches."

"I don't know who you are but I'm going to have to ask you to leave me."

"When we met, I mentioned my name and you told me the words of my House. I pretended to be hurt at the tourney so that I could speak to you," he confessed.

 _"Merlon, Ser Merlon Crakehall."_

 _"None so fierce," she smiled._

 _"You know the words of my House?"_

 _"I paid attention during my lessons," Nysa said as she went to stand._

 _"Will I see you at the feast tonight, my lady?"_

Nysa turned sharply towards him and he smiled. "You know who I am now?" Ser Merlon chuckled and leaned against the balcony close to her, looking out over the yard with Nysa. "Tending to his wife seems to have been a forgotten concern," he pointed out. "Here you are, alone, unguarded, unhappy..."

"What makes you think I'm unguarded," she snapped, her tone icy and unwelcoming.

He took a few steps forward until they were close. His presence near her was unsettling. Nysa didn't like it. And apparently her demeanor showed because Lyra and Ser Stevron quickly appeared. Along with them was Cayn and Wyl. Ser Merlon glanced at them before smiling at Nysa.

"Do not mistake Ser Stevron's age or Lady Lyra's sex as a sign of weakness, Ser," Nysa commented. "So, if you think that you can come here and make idle threats to my health, then you are sorely mistaken."

Immediately, Wyl and Cayn pulled out their swords, ready to defend her.

"You may be guarded but I noticed that you didn't dispute the fact that you are unhappy," Ser Merlon told her.

"Of course I am happy."

"Are you trying to convince me or convince yourself of that," he asked.

"What sort of questions are these?"

"I'm just stating that sometimes a woman has needs. If her husband," he pointed out towards the yard, "doesn't see to them. There are others who can bring her satisfaction."

"How dare..." Lyra and Ser Stevron moved forward but Nysa held up her hand.

"You are too forward, Ser. You forget that I am your Queen."

"Oh no, I haven't forgotten," he said leaning his head down. Nysa's body tensed and she backed away slightly. Ser Merlon's smile widened. "I just wanted to point out that I think your husband is the one who has forgotten."

He left quickly before Lyra or Ser Stevron could say a thing to him. But the damage had already been done. Nysa felt a piece of her break as she looked out at the yard and saw Robb laughing and chatting amiably with Lady Jeyne. She thought that she and Robb had been resolved some things. Although she would wake in the middle of the night and early in the morn to find his side of the bed empty. Grey Wind was always present by her side and would growl at the men Robb had brought from the Westerlands. He appeared by her side now, nudging at her stomach - as though he knew what precious treasure she carried.

How odd that this Lady Jeyne would receive the young Wolf while Nysa - the Queen - got the direwolf for protection. Was that Robb's way of apologizing for his lack of presence by her side?

She wondered again, why did Robb bring Jeyne here? Had Robb forgotten about her and taken a mistress already?


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Sansa watched in horror as Joffrey - a person she once thought would become her husband, the father of her children - commanded that Ser Preston's head be hung on a spike. This was the same walkway he made her look up at her father's head. He vowed that he'd bring her Robb's. Seeing Ser Preston up there - something broke inside of her. He was the last - and only - person linking Sansa to her sister, Nysa and the North.

Her bottom lip trembled as she spied Lord Baelish looking at her - not with a sincere apology but rather a certain amount of disdain. He had mentioned that he saw her mother and her sister and that he would be able to get her back to them. But she had decline - trusting Ser Preston, trusting the man Nysa had left to look after her. And now he was gone.

 _I do not know what they have told you but Arya and I are alive and well. We are escaping King's Landing today with the help of Ser Preston._

Nysa had left Sansa behind believing that Ser Preston would look out for her. And he had been looking out for her. He never harmed her, never hurt her or raised his voice to her - not in the same way that Joffrey had ordered the rest of his Kingsguard. Every now and then he would escort her through the Capital - as though she were still the King's betrothed. He had treated her with respect, the same respect befitting a Lady. She never felt as though she were a prisoner - not with Ser Preston watching over her. But now...

"How did they find out," Sansa mumbled as Shae closed her eyes in shame and looked away. Shae should have known that would happen. She opened her mouth too hastily and that had cost Sansa.

"This is what happens when you betray me!"

Sansa looked down at her feet and tried to hide her tears from forming. They never did save her before. They wouldn't save her now.

"Your father, your Septa," Joffrey marched over towards her, shouting in her face.

Sansa flinched.

"And now your beloved Kingsguard," he pointed towards the head of Ser Preston. "He was mine! He was mine and you turned him against me! Did you spread your legs for him, you Northern bitch? Answer me!"

"I would never, your Grace," Sansa shook her head.

"You tricked him somehow, didn't you? Didn't you, you little..."

"That's enough."

Sansa turned, her eyes red and puffy from holding back the tears and saw Lord Tywin Lannister standing - proud and regal as always. He held his hands behind his back and motioned for one of the Lannister guards to step forward.

"Lady Sansa is from a noble House in the North, my King," Lord Tywin said as one of the guards placed his two hands on Sansa and pushed her gently behind them. "She is not to be treated as..."

"She is my prisoner! And I am the King. I do not need to be told how to treat my prison..."

Joffrey stopped as Lord Tywin moved to stand in front of him. "Take Lady Sansa back to her chambers," he instructed with a nod. Joffrey went to open his mouth but his grandfather kept his gaze on him. "I will speak with you shortly, my Lady," he glanced at Sansa.

"Yes, my Lord," she curtsied before the guards led her away.

Cersei came out then to stand by her father and wondered what he was doing. There were those of the small council present. Surely he did not plan on humiliating Joffrey - her son - while others were in attendance. She watched as the guards her father had brought with her, filed out - following Sansa.

Lord Tywin moved when the door had closed and stood at the balcony, looking up at the spikes on the wall. He noted that a few of them were empty - no doubt because Tyrion had returned Lord Stark's bones to Lady Stark. He sighed and thought about _that_ son before knowing he'd have to deal with _this_ grandson.

"Does your idiocy know no bounds?"

"Excuse me," Joffrey looked appalled.

Lord Tywin told his grandson, turning around. "I have served as Hand of the King to your father's predecessor - you know this. They called him the 'Mad King' and from where I stand, it could be possible that history has a way of repeating itself."

"Leave us," Cersei said as Lord Baelish, Maester Pycelle and Lord Varys bowed their heads and departed. There were other Kingsguards who were present and also left with a nod from Cersei. "My Lord father, surely..."

"The King asked to be consulted on appropriate matters whenever necessary. Well, then this is a necessity," Lord Tywin commanded. "As we speak there are numerous Houses - great and noble Houses - that have not swore fealty to you. And while you should worry about bringing these Houses and their men, their gold and their loyalty into the fold, you pester a young girl."

"She betrayed me!"

"And so you had your Kingsguard slain?" Tywin looked at Cersei and then walked pass his grandson. "First, you dismissed Ser Barristan from the Kingsguard. Then, Lord Stark - who served as Hand of the King, Hand to your father."

"He..."

"That brought the whole North and the Riverlands against you. And now, you have a Knight executed - one that is supposed to serve as your loyal guard for life," he looked back, "for life."

"As mentioned earlier," Cersei came forward and wrapped an arm around Joffrey, "this man betrayed his King. He's been looking out for Lady Sansa under the urging of that bastard girl from the North. What were we to do?"

Tywin barely glanced at his daughter. "Needless death will have endless consequences."

"You've always taught me - through example - that those who betray _us_ need to pay. Years and years of lectures," she began, "did it ever occur to you that your daughter was the only one listening, living by them. That she would have the most to contribute to your legacy that you love so much more than your actual children," she smiled prettily.

A smile that Tywin tried to picture would be similar to his wife's but it wasn't - not really. Cersei tried - he had to admit that much. Right now, though...

"Go to visit your betrothed, my King," Lord Tywin stated.

"I think that as the King, I should be here."

Tywin glanced at him. "Spend time with Lady Margery Tyrell, my King."

"I have spent time with her. Don't you think that as the King..."

"You choose your next action wisely, your Grace."

That was the only statement Lord Tywin said as Joffrey left in a huff. There was a moment of silence as father and daughter considered one another. Cersei was a bit disturbed that she hadn't really been given recognition for her work. She had been the one who discovered Ser Preston's loyalty was to that bastard from the North, not her father. She had been the one who knew that Ser Barristan had stood by Lord Stark - ready to take her son off the throne, ready to expose them all. She had been the one to set right all the wrongs that had to be covered.

"You dismiss him to spend time with Margery," Cersei questioned.

"She is to become his Queen."

"Margery has her claws in Joffrey. She knows how to manipulate him."

"Good," he told her. "I wish you knew how to manipulate him." Cersei tilted her face slightly in confusion. "You're right. You do contribute," he acknowledged. "But you also make a mess of things."

"That's because you don't trust me. You still name Jamie as your heir and pride of Casterly," her eyes narrowed. "But what about me, father? Is it because of my sex?"

"I don't distrust you because you are a woman. I distrust you because you're not as smart as you think you are. Your brother - as skilled as he is - was disarmed by a bastard girl from the North. Then, I had confidence in you - my daughter - that you'd watch over the girl. A task that seemed to escape you as well, considering that she is no longer here. Then, I come back to the Capital to find that the same girl took one of the Stark girls with her and managed to corrupt a Kingsguard."

"There's obviously..."

"That is not all," Tywin commanded. "Your son," he clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You've allowed that boy to ride rough over you and everyone else in this city," he nodded towards the door. "I sent Tyrion here to make sure that he brought Joffrey in line. You went against that, bucked him at every turn."

"You expect me to listen to that half..."

"I expected you to listen to me," he interrupted her as he took a step forward. "I am the one who sent Tyrion here. I am the one who told him to make sure Joffrey behaved decently. This," he pointed towards the Kingsguard's head, "cannot happen again. And I'm not speaking of the execution. I'm speaking about the fact that someone here - in the Capital - was a spy for the North! And your son," he sighed heavily. "Your son does not know how to handle matters, not the way that a Lannister should."

"It will be dealt with," Cersei answered.

"Father is here, now. I will see that it is dealt with," Tywin admonished. "And while we worry on that, let the Tyrell girl work her seductions of Joffrey."

* * *

A surge of Frey soldiers and guards were in Riverrun. Ser Stevron looked just as confused as Robb and Nysa did. He stepped forward and stood next to Nysa. "No one informed me of this, my Queen."

"Perhaps they have come to pay their respects to House Tully," Nysa replied gently, attempting to put the older knight at ease.

"They were supposed to stay in Harrenhal with Lord Bolton," Robb added with a look of censure at Ser Stevron. "I want to meet with your brothers, Ser Stevron. I want to know what the meaning of this sudden arrival means."

Nysa's eyes widened as Robb held his hand out for her to join him. She took it eagerly and followed him quietly into the halls of Riverrun. They didn't converse about anything but she could feel the tension burning - not so much between the two of them but more so because of the surprised guests they had just received. Nysa tried to steady her beating heart. Had they come to kill her? Could she protect herself? Could she protect the babe? And what of Robb? Or Lady Catelyn and Arya? Then there was her brother to think of also.

Robb gestured with a nod towards Lord Edmure and Ser Brynden - the latter gave her a kind smile - before they entered into the meeting room where they would discuss matters with House Frey. Nysa looked around quickly and took in that only the Northern Lords were present.

"Where is Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood," Nysa questioned Edmure. "And where is Lord Mallister and Ser Piper," she named as well.

"I have them commanding their men to guard the walls, my Queen," Ser Brynden answered. He stepped forward and quietly finished, "with the added presence of Frey knights, I wanted to ensure the safety of my King, my Queen and my home."

The Blackfish always thought ahead.

Nysa nodded in appreciation before Robb escorted her to sit next to him. This meant something, she thought. He brought her here to a meeting with him. He brought her here, she kept chanting. She looked over at him and smiled as he took her hand in his. Robb smiled in response before looking towards the door. Yes, this meant something.

Slowly, knights from House Frey filed into the room. She watched as Lyra entered the room then - with Jayne by her side - a sullen expression on both their faces. She narrowed her eyes at Lyra who shook her head. They were supposed to escort Lady Catelyn here. Instead, they came without her.

"This is from Lord Bolton," one of the Frey knights stepped forward. "He received raven from his son regarding Winterfell."

Quickly, Robb took the letter and opened it. Nysa leaned over as they both read the note in silence. "Rubbish," was her first word before looking up at the Frey men. "Ramsay didn't try hard enough! I demand that he..."

"He completed a thorough search, my Queen," the knight interrupted. "He wanted to be certain before he sent word."

"Well, I do not believe it," Nysa said with a clipped tone before blinking her eyes - tears brimming her lashes, threatening to spill.

"What is it, your Grace," asked the Greatjon on the side of Robb.

Robb took a deep breath before looking up at his Lords. "By the time Lord Bolton's son arrived, the Ironborn were gone. Theon had every one massacred," he threw the letter down on the table, "and he could not find my brothers."

"That means nothing," Nysa sniffed before wiping her face with her sleeve. She held her head high and looked at the knight who had handed them the letter. "Bran and Rickon could still be alive. They could have escaped, thought of going to the Wall to be with Jon. They don't know about him deserting," she said. "I want someone to write to the Wall..."

"Nysa," Robb said quietly as a sob threatened to wrack her body. He turned back towards the Frey knights and nodded to them. "Theon could have also taken them back to the Iron Islands as hostages."

"We haven't received any demands," Lord Glover stated. "For Deepwood Motte, Bear Island or your brothers, my King."

"We haven't gotten word for anything," Lady Dacey added.

"Which leads us to wonder," Greatjon turned slightly to face Robb and Nysa, "what happened to all the ravens? Did you think on that, my King? Perhaps - just perhaps - the Ironborn have killed the ravens as well."

"They are attacking places in the North," Daryn Hornwood spoke up from the other side of Robb. "When in battle, you cut off their lines of defense, their lines of escape," he mentioned. "And if they send out word..."

"Then we will know what is happening, be able to send more men back," Lyra commented, "assess the situation."

"Ramsay is there," Nysa responded. "Since the North is under attack, why can't he go and assist the Northern houses?"

"Lord Bolton's son only just returned to the North, your Grace," one of the Frey knights answered.

"He returned a while ago - a decent amount of time ago. If he only just returned then my request for him to search for Prince Bran and Prince Rickon wouldn't be unfounded," Nysa replied. "You yourself stated that he completed a thorough search. I may not be a soldier, but I know that you cannot complete a thorough search in such a short amount of time."

"Are you questioning Lord Bolton or House Frey?"

"Neither," Nysa stood up. Lyra came immediately to her side, hand of the hilt of her sword. A few of the Northern Lords stood as well, ready to defend their Queen. "I am merely wondering what Lord Bolton's son is doing now that he feels his search is _complete_. Lord Bolton should have instructed his son to assist the other Northern Houses. Lord Karstark received letter from his wife that they were under attack. Did he think to go there?"

No one answered and Nysa slowly took her seat, looking at each of them.

"Did he go to Deepwood Motte? If he is sitting around waiting for another command from the King, then by all means go and assist the North," Nysa commanded. "Our people, our homes are under attack. During his 'thorough search' did he think to hunt down the Ironborn raiders? Or perhaps he is on his way back here to assist King Robb? I didn't read either of those things in Lord Bolton's message. Maybe you could answer that for me since you are his messenger, what is Lord Bolton having his son do now?"

All heads turned towards the Frey knight as he attempted to collect his thoughts. It was obvious that Nysa's words had cut him down. A few of the Northern Lords were thinking that as well now - why hadn't Ramsay gone to assist the other Houses?

"Regardless what Lord Bolton's son has decided, it seems that our House has loss two marriages," another knight from House Frey stepped forward.

"Two," Nysa questioned.

Robb sighed. "The second was to Bran," he answered as she glanced at him and then back towards the Frey men.

"With that piece of news in mind, our father calls us back to the Twins," Ser Aenys Frey stood in front of them.

"It's not about marriage pacts," Ser Wylis Manderly shouted.

"Your mission to have your Queen assassinated, failed," Greatjon demanded, his fists slamming on the table.

The other Northern Lords began to shout at the few Freys who stood before Robb and Nysa. She took a deep breath - remembering Lady Catelyn's words - and held up one of her hands to stop the Lords from arguing.

"Your House's allegiance is very important to both the King and myself," Nysa looked at Robb and then the Freys who were gathered. "Surely there's some sort of arrangement that we can work into," she glanced towards Ser Stevron.

"I will not be going back to the twins," Ser Stevron took a step forward.

"Neither will I," Ser Danwell added.

"Danwell," the first Frey turned to look at him. "Father calls us all..."

"Our House was slighted, that much is true," Ser Stevron looked at his brothers. "But I have faith that our Queen will make amends for their actions," he glanced at Nysa who shamefully looked away. She had no time to think about Jory's advice to stay away from Robb. Like Lady Catelyn had told her, what was done, is done. Now she had to repair the damage. "Because of that," Ser Stevron turned around and knelt down slowly, "I will stay. Robb Stark is our King, his wife - our Queen, and we have made a promise to them. Two broken promises does not make it honorable. It just leads to more chaos, brothers."

Nysa noticed Ser Perwyn looked confused as to what to do, along with Ser Jared. She was certain that many of them - like Ser Aenys - felt that they owed Robb anything when they had nothing to gain from it.

"Father will be angry with you," the first knight stepped past him - a renewed sense of confidence now that his brothers had spoken up around him. "The rest of us will not stay in the company of those who break their vows to House Frey."

This was a crushing blow to both Nysa and Robb. On the news that Theon had killed everyone in Winterfell and the possibility that Bran and Rickon were loss as well, now they had just seen House Frey depart from them. Robb's hold tightened on her hand and Nysa knew his response would be one of anger. Quickly, Nysa stood up. But at the same time so did Robb.

"If that's how you feel," Robb's reply was tight and angered. Grey Wind growled in the back of him.

* * *

Sansa stood as Lord Tywin entered the room. The Lannister guards who were there stood on each side of the door and continued there as the door closed behind Lord Tywin.

"Forgive the King," Lord Tywin stated. "He has been..."

Sansa quickly shook her head. "There is nothing to forgive, my Lord. Though I am saddened to have lost the prospect of being my King's betrothed, I admire him greatly and am grateful for his," she paused and looked down as Lord Tywin's gaze turned towards her. "For his generosity."

"Generosity," Lord Tywin chuckled and gestured towards a chair.

Quickly, Sansa moved one of her needlework away from the other so that they both could sit. Before she could, Lord Tywin took the needlework in his hand and admired it.

"A direwolf?" Sansa was on the verge of asking for forgiveness but once again, Lord Tywin continued on. "I doubt you'd want my grandson to see that."

Of course not, she thought.

"I have news of your brother."

"My brother is a traitor."

"Your brother is wed," Lord Tywin stated as Sansa looked up to him with wide eyes. "We received raven that he wed a young woman named 'Nysa Snow' - a woman that was here in King's Landing, a woman that," he paused and pinned Sansa with his gaze, "that took Harrenhal and killed Ser Gregor Clegane."

If Sansa's face hadn't shown shock before, it definitely did now.

"I do not know how she arranged for Ser Preston to look after you. I do not know how she was able to kill Ser Gregor. There seems to be a many a thing that I do not know about her - this Queen of the North and the Trident," he said.

He didn't sound angry but Sansa still kept herself on alert. She didn't want to seem to happy to hear that news. She remembered seeing the Mountain in battle at the tourney, had watched how he killed one knight, came close to killing three others. Nysa had killed the Mountain! Sansa turned her head slightly away to hide the smile. House Lannister's champion was gone, dead and defeated.

"I want to know more about this so-called Queen," Lord Tywin gestured towards the guards then who exited the rooms but then reappeared with her father's sword. "Your father's sword is yours. I will give it back to you. You can do with it as you please," he announced. "Send it home to Winterfell, send it to your brother and his wife as a wedding gift. But I want to know all about this maiden 'Nysa Snow'."

Sansa felt a thump in her heart. She had heard from Shae that Lord Tyrion had sent her father's bones back to her mother, Lord Baelish had confirmed that he traveled with the bones - met her mother. If Nysa was truly Queen then she must be working on a way to get Sansa back - they all must. She had promised. _I believe we will meet Robb on the road. Once we do, we will get you out of there, Sansa. I promise. Know that we are fighting for you, Sansa. Your brother, your mother, your sister and I, including the entire North. We are fighting for you - the wolf among the lions._

"My Lord, I do not know much."

"I think you know much more than you are letting on," he told her.

Sansa glanced at her father's sword, the light dancing off the steel. Ice was carried by House Stark for years - many, many years. Right now she scolded herself for not knowing the exact number. If Arya were here, she'd probably shout it loudly and demand that the sword be sent to Robb. It belonged in the North. It belonged to House Stark. She remembered though seeing Ser Preston's head on a spike and knew that she couldn't trust anyone here.

"I promise Joffrey won't harm you anymore," he said as her head snapped towards him.

"He never harms me unless it is deserved. And I am the daughter and sister of traitors," she began her tale. "I..."

"Lady Sansa," Lord Tywin sighed and leaned forward. "I have no time for self-pity. Tell me, who is Nysa Snow? You must know something of her since she was to become one of your ladies-in-waiting. My own wife was a Lady for the Targaryen Queen. Those positions weren't chosen lightly."

"No, I'm sure they weren't," Sansa shook her head before answering. "Nysa is the daughter of Ser Martyn Cassel. Her father died fighting during the Rebellion. Because of that, my father brought her home with him from the South."

Tywin titled his head. "So, she is from here?"

Sansa nodded. "Well," she paused, "her mother is from here. Her mother came from a Great House. I don't know where, though. My father and mother never told us, my Lord," she looked down.

"I am just learning that she was in Harrenhal - under my care, tending to the wounded Lannister guards. She aided Ser Stafford and warmed Ser Lucion's bed."

"Nysa would never," Sansa shouted before her eyes widened in fear and she shrunk back once more. "Forgive me, my Lord. I do not know what came over me. I didn't mean to discredit you or argue with you. I would never. You should not take my words seriously. I am just the daughter of..."

"If you say that one more time, I will think you incompetent," he interjected. "It is obvious that her and my cousin sharing a bed were just rumors. After all, she and your sister stayed undetected in Harrenhal - without anyone's notice. How did she accomplish that?"

Sansa opened her mouth but Lord Tywin stopped her.

"Now think of your words carefully, my Lady. I sat with your sister, had conversations with her. I thought her smart - smarter than my own daughter. The young woman who is now Queen of the North, sat at my table with my Lords - gave me advice. Advice I followed because I thought her to be like my very own sister. And the proof in that is that they both survived. With that in mind, I hope that you and I can have a reasonable conversation. Ser Lucion kept her safe and for what reason," he questioned. Sansa looked confused. "He is not here to answer so I am asking you. They obviously knew one another."

Sansa licked her lips and took a deep breath. "I remember the Hand's tourney," she began. "There were a few knights who she had tended to. She could have tended to his wounds, my Lord."

Lord Tywin hummed in acknowledgement, gesturing with his hand for her to go on.

"I know there was one knight who asked her for a favor," Sansa answered slowly. "I remember she danced with a few knights at the feast for the Hand of the King, including Ser Preston," she mumbled the last part.

"Hmm," he made the noise again before responding. "That's still not much."

"My Lord, I..."

"I will be realistic with you, my Lady. _You_ are the only reason why your brother continues to war against the crown. Now he has a Queen, a Queen who had one of my own kin hiding her within enemy camp, a Queen who took away Ser Gregor - one of the best under my command. She is more than just the daughter of some knight from the North."

"Her Uncle was Winterfell's Master-at-arms," Sansa closed her eyes. "Her brother is captain of House Stark's guards. And my mother raised her. Our Septa and our Maester instructed her - the same as they did with me, with the rest of my siblings."

"They wanted her to be the equal as a high-born Lady, why?"

"I do not know, my Lord."

He sighed again and looked at the sword. "She shot an arrow at my son and she still lived. She deceived my daughter and was allowed to escape the capital. She is now Queen of the North and the Trident. A bastard girl that no one knows a thing about - not Cersei, not Tyrion, not Jamie, not Lord Varys, not Lord Baelish, not even you. She is smarter than anyone gives her credit for."

Tywin went to stand and patted the sword on the table.

"I'll leave this here in good faith, my Lady. If you should think of something - anything," he clarified. "Or perhaps you know of any other friends she made while she stayed here in the Capital," Tywin tapped the sword again and preceded to walk out.

Silently, Tywin prayed that this plan he was plotting on would work. This girl escaped them one too many times.

* * *

Nysa watched as the soldiers of House Frey prepared to depart. A few of them were arguing about staying. She sighed and continued to watch on. A few of the knights and men had decided to stay on with their King - and _their_ Queen, she thought bitterly. There were rumors and murmurs going about that many of them were desiring to assassinate said Queen. And with that Robb didn't hold any desire to speak to them.

She turned and saw a familiar face. She wondered if Robb had sent him. Robb may have voiced his concern, arrogantly shouting at them and demanding that whoever so much as looked at her was to be executed - even Ser Stevron Frey - but Nysa knew that many of them needed to be soothed. Cursing House Frey and threatening them in the same manner would get them nowhere. And Nysa understood how well they needed House Frey.

"You shouldn't be here without a guard," Harrion informed her. Yes, it is possible that he was sent by Robb. He wanted her to be well-guarded. At least he cared that much.

"I am not completely without protection," Nysa tapped her side and Harrion eyed the sword next to her.

"You're also not completely skilled with a sword," Harrion teased and she smiled. These days her smile was rarely seen. "Remember, I told you to stick to the bow."

"Aye, you did. But it doesn't mean I won't carry this every now and then," she gestured towards her sword before looking out at the yard.

"Have you named it, yet? I also recall informing you that a good sword needs a good name," Harrion said.

Nysa pulled out the sword and lifted it for Harrion to hold. "Did you see what your brother did to it?" She ran her fingers along the engraving. "It says 'Sun and Snow'. And right there in the ruby," she moved to the hilt, "is House Karstark's sigil. I may not be skilled with it. I may always prefer the bow. But keeping this here reminds me of the reason why I am alive because the person who held it last, rode here from the North to save me. It reminds me of my promise to House Karstark. That there is justice for House Karstark - for the one who rode here to save me," she looked up at Harrion. "And when I find him, he will know this maiden's mercy."

Harrion nodded before touching the words on the sword. " _Maiden's Mercy_ , huh?"

"Torrhen fought for that maiden - not for a Queen. I wanted him to know, wanted House Karstark to know that that maiden hasn't forgotten the vengence that is owed."

He chuckled and handled it back to her. "I fear for the Kingslayer once you deliver your mercy to him." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead. "You would have been a wonderful addition to our House."

Nysa sighed and turned away. "Your father doesn't seem to think so. I suppose he never really did. I am a bastard and..."

"I'll hear none of that," Harrion told her as she put the sword away and the two of them continued to look out over the yard. Waylyn and Hod - another guard from Karhold - came to stand guard with Harrion. "Torrhen never saw you as one, never treated you as one. Do not disgrace the memory of him by belittling yourself that way."

Harrion glanced at her and saw the briefest of smiles fall upon her face. It appeared as though she lifted her chin - daring anyone to contradict what he had just stated. Or perhaps she was building confidence and strength from that one statement. Whatever it was, Harrion saw a sense of determination in her eyes. She had changed recently, he just couldn't pinpoint it.

"Exactly why are you here, my Queen?"

Nysa turned towards him with a wider smile and quickly wiped the wetness near her eyes. "I wanted to thank the men who came to fight for us from House Frey."

"It hardly looks like any of them will receive you," he looked around.

"I see someone who will," she nodded towards the yard. "Are you going to accompany me or stay here?"

Harrion didn't answer verbally but instead took a couple steps with her. He followed closely behind her as she made her way towards the Frey knight who was preparing to leave. Waylyn and Hod did the same, keeping a wary eye open.

"Ser Perwyn," Nysa called out. "I hear you are leaving."

Ser Perwyn turned to her and bowed in response. "My brother," he nodded ahead of him towards a man who looked very upset about her presence here. "He considers it an insult that the King has broken his promise to our father."

"I understand," she nodded before touching his shoulder and then walking towards a few of the other Frey men. "Ser Whalen," she nodded to one of them. "Young Hoster," she bowed her head as Ser Whalen's son came to mount his horse.

"Your Grace," he bowed but a throat cleared causing him to jerk upright. Yes, it was definitely obvious her presence was unwanted.

"I hear that you are leaving Ser Damon's service," she said.

"Aye, my Uncle feels that we have served his Grace in full."

"And his Grace considers it an honor that you all have been here, even you," she touched his shoulder. "There are many a young squires leaving today but I was told that out of them all, your cousin regrets your departure the most." Hoster looked ashamed for a moment. "It is only because he spoke of your talent and skill. I have seen your Uncles and cousins fight in a tourney as well as in battle. There is skill there and I'm sure that you will become a good Knight as they are one day." Hoster smiled as did his father. "May the Gods be with, young Hoster," she dipped into a curtsy. "The next time we meet, I may call you Ser."

"It would be an honor, your Grace," he bowed.

Nysa continued to slowly walk around and converse with the the Frey men who were there. Ser Perwyn kept a close eye on her - matching the stride of Harrion Karstark and following from a safe distance should one of his brothers or nephews decide to make the King a widower. Word was that 'Black Walder' had already threatened to do so when they arrived in Riverrun. But he was surprised to see that many of them showed their respect to her. A few who had been present in Harrenhall's cells as well as the tourney in King's Landing looked guilty but Nysa assured them that she did not hold any resentment for them choosing to leave.

"Ser Stevron is upset with us though," one of the Frey soldiers spoke. "He spoke highly of you to his son but..."

Nysa stopped him. "I wish not to come between father and son. I spoke to Ser Stevron of this and told him that if his son wishes to leave and you all along with him then I will not keep you. I know that there have been lives lost on your end as well. I know that you all wish to see your wives and homes," she nodded to a couple of them. "I think nothing less of a man who wishes to do so. You have served the King well and I thank you for that."

Perwyn came to stand in front of her, drawing his sword. Harrion gripped her upper arm and held his sword out as well. She tried to calm herself down. She didn't see any threat. Waylyn moved to her left and that's when she saw it. Nysa turned then to see one of the Frey Knights ride towards her. He held a sword in his hand and looked down at Nysa with narrowed eyes.

"I will hear no more pretty words from this whore."

"She is our Queen," Ser Perwyn shouted back at him.

"You forget your place, Perwyn!"

"No, you've forgotten yours," Ser Stevron called from the steps. Slowly, he made his way down, eyeing out any Freys who would challenge him.

"Please," she touched Perwyn's arm to put his sword away. She didn't want a repeat of what happened outside of Riverrun. "I didn't want a violent parting."

"Stevron is right, Harys," Ser Danwell came by the group then. "Remember she is the Queen who breaths fire," he said loudly looking around the yard as some of the men backed away.

"Ser Harys," Nysa bowed her head before the Knight, hoping to placate him and defuse the situation further.

"What are you doing here, your Grace," he asked. His tone was not threatening anymore, merely curious.

"I wish to thank the men who served the King."

"I must wonder why the King is not present himself to thank us," Ser Dafyn Vance trotted forward on his horse.

"The King is too proud," Nysa answered honestly.

"You argued about coming out here, didn't you," Ser Dafyn smiled.

"We do not see eye to eye on many matters, though it is no concern of yours what takes place between another man and his wife, especially if that man is the King."

"Of course," he bowed his head slightly. He looked around for a moment before dismounting his horse. "Tell my wife that I am still serving the King and Queen."

"You wife will have wanted you to come home with me," she noted Ser Stevron's son came there.

"No," he shook his head, "My wife would have wanted me to protect her father, your father," he emphasized. "The Queen nursed him back from death itself. And for that I am in debt to her Grace, you should be too."

"Why you..."

"Stop," Nysa put up her hands. "I do not want you to fight among yourselves, please," she pleaded as Ser Stevron's son backed up. A few others around them put away their swords, including Ser Harys - the first Knight who charged at her.

"Let's go," Black Walder trotted by on his horse then. His eyes narrowed at Nysa before he urged his horse forward.

There were more men who decided to stay back as well. Whether it was due to Nysa's humbling thanks, Ser Stevron's presence or Ser Dafyn Vance's words, she did not know. Perwyn looked at his brothers who were leaving and those who were staying.

"As I said earlier, I will not hold any back," she told him. Perwyn nodded but looked over his shoulder. "Or is there another you were hoping would stop you?"

Perwyn shook his head and then turned back to look ahead. "She is a strong woman, not just in body but also in character. It is not in her to ask me to stay, no matter how much I hope for it."

"She likes you. She hasn't said as much but I know House Mormont well," Nysa nodded.

Perwyn hesitated once again. His brother Jared rode by then. Perwyn turned towards Nysa and bowed. He may have liked the Lady Mormont well but nothing was promised and he knew that she would never leave the North of her family to join his. He regretted mounting his horse, not just because of her. He had a deep respect for the King. His Grace treated every one of his personal guards as his closest of friends. And the Queen, he thought as he looked at her, she too had become a friend to him. Yes one of his sisters should be in her place but Nysa was a kind person. He had met her in King's Landing when she tended to his brothers and then assisted him in unhorsing Ser Trant. She was just a maiden then who cheered for his brothers as much as she had for her own - until her brother faced them.

"Ser Jared," she curtsied to him.

"I know what you must think of me," he told her. "I raised my cup to honor you. You took care of my wounds, saved my brother, myself and countless others while in Harrenhal. And this is the thanks you are receiving," he gestured around her.

Nysa shook her head. "The King slighted your House, as did I," she said softly.

"I do not stand with my brother Stevron."

"Neither do his son or grandsons," Nysa smiled and then nodded towards Edwyn Frey and 'Black Walder' who were preparing to leave. "I will not hold any of you back. I merely wished to come and thank you all," she paused, "well thank those who would receive me."

"You are a gracious Queen, indeed," he bowed his head and left.

Harrion touched Nysa's shoulder once everyone who had decided to leave - departed. She startled and gave a small shriek, gripping her dress near her heart. His eyes held concern and worry. She smiled reassuringly and patted his arm.

"I am alright," Nysa said.

He stayed there with her as she watched the Frey banners ride further away and tried not to let it overwhelm her. Her and Robb's actions had caused half of House Frey's men to leave. Many had arrived from Harrenhal when they heard of Lord Tully's passing. And now, they were gone. She looked back at the Frey men who had decided to stay before glancing once more at the large party that left.

 _I need to remind you that my House will do what they want. I am not their Lord. They seek my father's approval. And I can only do so much to assuage all of House Frey._

The loyalty of the Houses to their King and Queen were slipping away, just like the men who were riding away from Riverrun. She had to make amends with House Frey. She wasn't sure how to do it but she needed to have it done soon.

* * *

Jon sat upon his horse for what felt like an eternity. Ghost had taken off miles earlier only to reemerge with two figures close behind him. The horses were skittish when the direwolf had returned and with good reason. Now there were three direwolves standing in front of Jon. Osirc and Ronnel had taken out their sword and ax, respectively. Jon put up a hand to halt their actions and continued to look out at the small pack.

Jojen Reed had told him to go to this particular spot of the woods. They were travelling back from Karhold and arrived at a piece of woods between Last Hearth and the Wall. Meera had requested that she ride back towards Winterfell to ensure its safety. If what the Ironborn at Karhold were stating the truth, then Theon was still somewhere here in the North. Ghost had taken a liking to her and so Jon allowed it.

But now, he wasn't so sure he should have let her leave. Meera could have walked into the woods to discover the truth behind these direwolves next to Ghost.

Ghost was tall and impressive on his own but seeing him reunited with the other two caused Jon to pause, a deep intake of breath allowing him to move. These weren't just any direwolves - they looked a lot like wolves he had seen in Winterfell. Slowly, he dismounted from his horse. Standing next to the horse and gripping onto the reins, Jon searched the surrounding woods for any reason why the two wolves were here.

He got his answer when he heard a whimper from deep within the trees. His head snapped up, towards the sound.

"Jon?"

"Bran," Jon smiled.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

"Ser Patrek," Nysa curtseyed. "I have met your father. He is a good man."

"House Mallister is loyal to House Tully," Edmure noted, "and of course to their King and Queen. Not to mention, Patrek is a good friend of mine."

As she spoke to several of River Lords, Nysa wondered where Robb had gone to. This was a gathering feast of sorts to welcome those who had traveled to Riverrun - not just to see their King but to also mourn the loss of Lord Tully. She had met her fair share of Lords and knights since she had arrived. But with the return of both Edmure and Robb, the halls of Riverrun seemed to be filled with fresh faces. She was eager to meet them all but had hoped that Robb would be by her side, greeting them as well.

Her ears tuned then to the sound of his laughter. She looked to where she heard it and immediately soured at the sight. There in _her_ chair, next to Robb, sat Lady Jeyne Westerling. Nysa pressed her lips in irritation as she saw Jeyne's hand lay on top of Robb's and give it a small squeeze.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, your Grace."

Nysa turned away from seeing Robb and Jeyne together. It wasn't the first time she had spotted the two. But with each additional incident, it felt like a part of her broke further. She touched the swell in her stomach and detested the fact that her child was going to be born to a father and mother who could barely stand each other.

"Are you alright, your Grace?"

"Yes," Nysa looked up and forced a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ser Patrek."

He smiled at her before following her gaze. "I wouldn't be too bothered by it, my Queen. House Tully's words are 'Family, Duty, and Honor'. And if the King..."

"The King may favor House Tully in looks but he is his father's son," Nysa said before turning - thinking about Jon then.

She had been glad that Edmure had been called by one of the River Lords at the time. It was bad enough that Ser Patrek had seen her irritated gaze. That - she supposed hurt the most - the fact that everyone could see him with that - she huffed, thinking of all sorts of unladylike titles to call Jeyne. The least Robb could have done was spare her the humiliation and pretend to be discreet about it.

Ser Patrek hurried to step in front of her before she left the hall entirely.

"I meant no disrespect, my Queen. I only meant to address that the King has been instilled with values from his mother. That right there," he gestured to the high table. "That is only momentary, a fleeting emotion. Believe me, my life is full of fleeting emotions."

Nysa looked at where he nodded his head to see a few maids smiling and giggling at Ser Patrek.

"The ladies adore you, Ser Patrek."

"They do," he nodded, waving to one of them as the rest of her friends giggled and pushed her playfully in their direction. "But I know that I must find a good wife, one that would become the future Lady of Seagard. She would have to be of strong mind because there will be many like that one," he nodded again towards Robb and Jeyne.

"I pray to the Gods then for your wife."

"You will," he smiled.

"I will," she nodded. "She'll need every bit of sanity to put up with your madness." Ser Patrek began to laugh heartily. "Where there are many in her case, I have one," she eyed Jeyne, "and still find myself in a fluster."

"Like I said, my wife would have to be strong-minded. I believe you are, my Queen. If you weren't, you wouldn't have gained our respect so easily. You should show our King how strong-minded you can be. Don't let one fleeting emotion bring you down."

"Thank you for your advice, Ser Patrek. But I find that tonight I am too tired to fight against any fleeting emotions. I will bid you goodnight, Ser," Nysa bowed her head to him as he did in respond.

Lyra was currently in a drinking contest with her sister and a few other guards from House Mormont and House Umber. Smalljon was overseeing their contest but looked up briefly to noticed that Nysa was leaving. He put his cup down and went to follow her, but Nysa shook her head at him. She wanted to be alone. It seemed that everyone had an opinion about her and Robb's marriage these days.

Many - like Ser Patrek - told her to fight for him, show that maiden from the Westerlands a thing or two. While others - like Ser Merlon - had attempted to pursue her. She snorted as she walked down the hallways. She was no Cersei Lannister. She wouldn't betray Robb like that, birthing another man's child and then pass him off as Robb's heir. Although, she did carry a child with her now. And that child was definitely Robb's - no other's.

Nysa paused as she reached their room. But she did hold another man in her heart and though she did not want to admit it, she knew that was betrayal in a different form.

 _"I am merely sharing with you what most likely ails my son," he looked towards her. "Brandon was charming and could easily win the smiles of maids everywhere he went. But not I. I lived in his shadow and felt that I still did even long after his death. It is a challenging thing for a man to cope with by constantly being compared to another. Remember that," he nodded to her, "especially when dealing with my son."_

 _"Lord Stark if I am betrothed to..."_

 _"Do you think it will be easy for Robb to see you with Torrhen?" She shook her head. "It was not easy for me to imagine my brother in my place next to my wife. There were times that I thought she would have wanted him there instead of me. But Catelyn never did compare us. She handled the situation better than anyone else and has been the perfect Lady for Winterfell and for me. I would never dishonor her," he said as Nysa narrowed her eyes for a moment, trying to understand why Lord Stark was telling her this. "As for Lady Ashara, she was merely a maid that I had danced with and nothing more."_

"Nothing more," Nysa whispered at the memory before pushing open the door and entering her chamber.

Could it be that Jeyne was just some maid that Robb enjoyed talking too? Or perhaps she had been just as guilty in all of this? Was Robb picturing Torrhen in his place just as easily as Nysa was? She berated herself for it and thought then of her conversation with Lady Stark.

 _Nysa nodded. "I miss him. I think that being his wife might have been..."_

 _"Don't do that, Nysa. It won't help you. It won't help Robb. The moment that I was married to Ned, I put similar thoughts on the side. Ned became my husband, the father of my children, the Lord of my home. And in time, I grew to love Ned deeply."_

 _"We're always so angry with one another," Nysa cried. "How can I bring a child into this world when his or her parents can barely stand one another?"_

 _"In time, love will come for you and Robb. You need to be sure to put him first. And those thoughts of Torrhen, Nysa," she moved to kiss her forehead, "they'll never go away but they will get easier. Keep those beautiful memories to help you, encourage you but never use them against creating memories with Robb."_

Nysa sat on a cushioned chair and looked at herself in the mirror. She tried to push away thoughts of Torrhen and how he had promised that there would be no one else but her - that there hadn't been any since that day she left Karhold. No, it would do no good to compare the two. Nysa closed her eyes and said a quick prayer to the Mother - something Lady Catelyn often said she did as well - begging for patience and endurance.

Her eyes opened when a soft knock came at her door.

"There you are," Robb smiled at Nysa as he walked into their room. He looked pleased to see her - as though he had been worried about her.

She wasn't certain why she was suddenly irritated with his arrival, but Nysa huffed as he began to undress and get ready for bed.

"Oh, you were looking for me," was her curt reply. "One must wonder why you are not keeping warm in Jeyne Westerling's bed," she started to brush her hair.

Robb paused and looked over at Nysa. "What are you speaking of?"

Nysa slammed the brush down and turned to him. "Lady Jeyne Westerling? The entire hall saw her sitting in my seat, the Queen's seat," she emphasized. "And yet you did nothing to stop it but smile and whisper in her ear. Did you make plans to visit her once you are done with me? Well, I can save you the formality of wishing me a good night and bid you go to her first because I am not sharing your bed!"

"I still do not understand..."

"Jeyne Westerling was seducing you!"

Her voice was growing louder with every statement and Robb was sure that someone was bound to hear her, perhaps even his mother or Arya. He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "We were talking."

"She had her hands on you! I did not know that it was alright for a Lady to touch another's husband like that unless it was welcomed," she accused.

"I did not welcome anything. We were just ta..."

"Talking," Nysa finished with a roll of her eyes. "Well, with her pretty eyes and light touches on your arm, I'm sure she could talk you into her bed."

"I hardly noticed her eyes."

"Some lover you'd make for her then," Nysa snorted.

By now Robb was getting furious. He had thought nothing of the talk he had with Jeyne. And the accusation that he would take her to his bed had him fuming. Yes, Jeyne had presented a tempting offer - more than once - but he refused each time. He wouldn't bring shame to his wife, though she were still pining for some dead Lord, Robb thought. And yet, here he was - the one who receiving censure for 'speaking' to another.

However, Nysa's accusations didn't stop there.

"How many lovers had you had Robb? I know I wasn't your first," she shouted.

"What does that have to..."

"Do you plan on fathering a bastard somewhere just to spite me?"

"I would never do such a thing! And I do not like that tone that you are taking with me," he growled.

"What do you plan to do," her eyes narrowed, "lock me in my rooms as you do with your mother? That would be pleasant for you and Jeyne, would it not?"

"There is no involvement of me and Jeyne or any other Lady here," Robb howled, equally livid as Nysa was at the moment.

"I saw you!"

"What you saw was a conversation," Robb snorted. "Their House surrendered to the North. Her and her brother were sent here along with their bannermen to bend the knee. We have their father as one of our prisoners."

"House Crakehall, House Brax and House Banefort have done the same! I don't see you flirting with Ser Merlon or Ser Tytos!"

"It was not flirting. We were in discussions about..."

"You were not in a discussion about politics," Nysa threw her brush at Robb's head.

He ducked just as it whirled past his head. "Have you gone mad?"

"I have," Nysa shouted as she picked up a bottle of oil and flung it towards him. "She touched you and you enjoyed it! The two of you take walks around Riverrun's halls! She sat in my seat! How long Robb? How long has she been in my place, at your side? You horrid, no-good," a nearby candle holder was flown across the room. Robb dodged that one as well. "Sorry excuse for a husband," Nysa continued to scream.

"She has never been at my side! I have never taken another to my bed. I," Robb stopped and help up his hand, pointing a finger straight at Nysa.

She had flown almost everything within her reach at him. Now the only thing left was her brother's dagger. The steel gleamed from the fire in the room. Nysa appeared determined to hit him in some way or form. But the dagger was a bit too far.

"Don't you dare," he warned but the blade left her hand.

Robb scrambled to the floor and upon hearing her curse - and feeling no pain in his body - knew that she had missed. A part of him glad that it wasn't her bow. He would definitely be dead if it was.

"Nysa be reasonable," he pushed himself off the floor.

"Go and bed that whore, for all I care," she shouted.

Something soft hit his face, covering his sight. He pulled the offending piece of garment off him and noticed that she'd flown her cloak at him. With a growl that could rival Grey Wind's, he threw the cloak harshly onto the ground. "Since we've wed, I have not bed anyone but you!"

"Then go and touch her, lure her into the dark corners in Riverrun and have your way with her," she scanned the room and saw nothing nearby that she could grab. Nysa dashed towards the bed, evading Robb's grasp as he went around the sitting chair in their room.

"Stop trying to injure me by flying objects at my head," he took a hold of her arms and tried to pull her against him.

"No! Let go of me, you rotten liar!"

Nysa struggled against his grip, but Robb's hands were larger, and he had grown in strength. "I did not lie to you! Calm down, woman!" When wrenching her hands would not work, Nysa tried to kick her legs out at him.

"No," she shouted as they tangled with one another. "Let go of me, you..."

"Oh, shut up," Robb growled as he pressed his lips against hers.

This time, he noticed that she didn't fight it - she encouraged it. Nysa pulled him closer and dragged him towards the bed - an open invitation. Unlike their last argument, she displayed no disdain with him touching her this time and he gladly reciprocated. Their kiss was fierce and full of passion. He wanted to devour her, she wanted to be feasted on. He had longed for this, she had missed this.

It was hard for either of them to focus on the argument any longer, not when the frustration had turned towards desire and the fury in them had burned into lust. Robb longed to feel her warmth, the connection that held them together, the heat that drove him out of his senses. Nysa had missed his body moving through hers, the tugging of her hair by his rough fingers and the possessive growl he emitted from claiming her. Tonight, right now, at this moment, they would belong to one another once more.

Nysa's fingers tore off the rest of his clothes, his tunic and pushed down at his breeches. "Why do you have all these clothes on you?"

"The next time, I'll come to you naked," he smiled against her lips as he pulled at her gown.

"I like the sound of that, my King," she purred, causing Robb to growl as he crawled over her body.

* * *

Jon smiled as Rickon explained his story, his near-death experience. It should have shocked Jon but the way Rickon explained it, the way he animatedly portrayed the last few days allowed Jon to realize that Rickon was still mischievous as ever.

 _You don't know what you'd be giving up._

His Uncle's words echoed in his head every time he looked at his two younger brothers. They were alive. Thank the Gods, they were alive. And he didn't want to give them up again. Bran would be returning to Winterfell - that much was certain. Rickon had reminded him of it. _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell._

Ronnel Woods advised Jon that perhaps Rickon could stay in Last Hearth or be taken to his House - House Woods - or House Forrester or House Branch. "It would be easier to hide the young Lord there," he said to Jon when they reached Last Hearth and Harmund Umber had opened the gates to them. "The Ironborn don't know the woods like we do."

"That is true," Bran spoke up, hearing their conversation.

"You wish to part from Rickon," Jon asked him.

Bran shook his head. "But if something should happen to me, at least Rickon will be safe."

"Something should happen to you," Jon shook his head. "I'm not letting anything happen to either of you."

"They're coming."

"Who is," Jon pressed, "the Ironborn? Let them come. The Lannisters? Robb will stop them first."

"The wildlings," Bran answered. "I saw it."

"What do you mean, you saw it?"

"Another one who sees things," Ronnel huffed in annoyance before getting up and moving to another table.

Jon took a moment to look at his brother. He noted that Jojen Reed sat a small distance away, watching Bran as well. Jon sighed and shook his head.

"I know what you're thinking, Jon," Bran told him. "It's madness whatever Jojen told you. But it is true," he assured his brother. "There are things that I can do, things that I can see. To go into the mind of our dire wolves is only the beginning, Jon."

"That was you," Jon murmured. "I thought," he paused and shook his head in disbelief. "You told me to stay in the North. She wants me here, you said."

"Nysa," Bran replied. "She and Robb are wed. I saw it through Summer, who saw it through Grey Wind."

Jon's brows furrowed in confusion. He had just learned of Torrhen's death. Why had Nysa quickly wed Robb? There were a thousand questions in his mind about the entire situation. Now, Nysa was Robb's Queen - Queen of the North. What did Lady Catelyn think? What would his father have thought? He remembered Lady Karstark mentioning that her husband was there. Did Lord Karstark think it a betrayal?

"You must write to them, Jon. They argue too much," Bran whispered the last sentence. "Plots are growing around them, plots that depend on Nysa and Robb's disagreements. She pushes one way and he pulls the other. It works against them, against the North. Tell them that we are alive, Jon. If something should happen to Robb while he and Nysa don't have an heir," he stopped and glanced towards Rickon. "Winterfell must always have a Stark."

"You could have him go to Bear Island," Osric added. "The wildlings would have to go over the Sea to get to him. And the Ironborn wouldn't dare risk another attack, not when they know our strength, not with the threat you just gave."

Jon looked conflicted. He wanted to keep them all together, bring them back to Winterfell. But what Bran mentioned was true. Should something happen, the North and Winterfell would need a Stark. Bran or Rickon would need to be kept safe.

"We'll inform everyone that I took Rickon to Karhold," Jon said. "Tell your Lord Uncle that if anyone asks, Rickon is here in Last Hearth."

Osric nodded.

"Who is that woman that was with you," Jon gestured towards Osha.

Bran looked her way and called her over. "Osha, this is Jon - my brother who served at the Wall. Jon, this is Osha. Robb came across her group in the wolfswood. She surrendered to him."

She eyed Jon warily. "I thought you crows stay there for life?"

"What are you doing so far from home?"

"Remember that man who left - that," Bran paused and chose not to say deserter. Instead he prompted Jon to the answer himself. They were reunited and neither one wanted to show any signs of disrespect by stating that Jon had broken his vows. Bran was certain that his brother had enough guilt as it was. "The man had stated that there were White Walkers," he added, "she says there are more."

"Should we believe the words of a wildling," Osric considered her.

"Should I fear an Umber who cares too much for his wine," she glanced at him. "I've heard stories of you and yours. You like to drink."

"I'm sure those aren't the only stories you've heard."

She smiled and shook her head. "Aye. Umbers are great warriors. Anyone who could out-battle an Umber is praised over the Wall. And I know it's been done before."

Osric smirked before turning towards Jon. "As much as Bran and Rickon may respect her. She cannot stay here. My father's Uncle lost his wife and daughter to the wildlings," he looked at Osha. "I'm surprised he hasn't asked for your head."

"I'll watch over Rickon then," Osha said to Jon. "I'll take him wherever you want me to, keep him protected, keep him safe. If the other Southerners don't take me, then I'll let them keep him. That's all you want, right? Is to keep him safe."

"We're not Southerners," Bran said.

"Of course not, little Lord."

"Why would you do that," Jon asked.

"Your family took me in," the wildling woman answered. "They were good to me when they had no cause to be," she looked at Jon. "What I say of those things under the ice are true, young crow. They're part ice. They've been sleeping and now they're up. They're coming."

"I've heard of them," Jon looked straight at her, remembering the stories that Sam had mentioned when he was at the Wall. "I've also seen the undead - the ones that cannot be killed with a sword."

"Only fire," Osha smiled at him.

"Those stories are true," Osric questioned, turning towards Jon before looking back at the wildling woman.

"I came here to go as far South as the south goes," Osha nodded. "There's nothing that we have that can stop those things under the ice. The undead can be stopped. But those things with blue eyes," she laughed and shook her head. "It's best if you get away from that, far away from that."

Jon considered things for a moment, considered what his next move was. This woman had kept them safe so far, surely, she would continue to do just that. If Bran needed something, he could speak through Ghost. It also seemed that he could look through the eyes of Grey Wind and see what Robb was doing. Robb and Nysa were wed. That must mean that Nysa made it out of King's Landing safely. He wondered what had happened to Arya and Sansa. Could Bran see through Nymeria or Lady? There were more questions forming in his mind.

"We stick to my plan," Jon said. "I'll write to Robb, let him know they're alive, tell him that I took them to Karhold to be safe. If anyone asks your Uncle," he looked at Osric, "he'll say that they're here. But no one should know, except for you and I what happened to Bran and Rickon."

* * *

As sated as she was, Nysa's senses were fast returning. Nysa didn't feel regret on her and Robb's love-making. She had missed it, the touches, the passion, the longing look in his eyes. Remembering Lady Catelyn's reunion with Lord Stark - Nysa wanted that. Lord and Lady Stark adored one another - she witnessed it. Surely, she and Robb could have that. She turned to look at Robb who had rolled onto his back. A small smile on his lips as he reached over and pulled her to his side. His head moved, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead before groaning softly in her hair.

"My King, the river Lords await. There is a funeral that needs arranging," Nysa whispered against his chest.

"We'll let my mother handle it," he moved to bury his head in her neck.

"She would appreciate it if you were there," Nysa said in a soft voice.

Robb sighed. "Aye," he replied and moved to leave. He rolled out of the bed and went to stand.

Nysa watched his movements. She should still be angry with him. She hated seeing Robb speaking to Jeyne. Of course, the rumors and whispers she heard had not helped at all. It only fueled her fury further when Robb feigned ignorance. Perhaps to him it was just a conversation. He didn't think anything of it. And that hurt just as equally. She wasn't sure what to do but to leave their bed and get dressed as well.

"Are you still upset with me, wife," Robb questioned gently. His tone didn't give way that he was angry, just frustrated.

"I think I am," she said as she pulled her gown close around her.

Completely dressed, Robb walked back to where she stood and took her hands in his. "Must we always argue?"

Nysa was quiet for a moment before pulling her hands slowly away. "You should use the grey cloak," she nodded before adjusting his tunic. "It will go nice with this."

"Nysa," he murmured causing her to look up at him.

"And of course, you'll look like a King," she smiled and went to fix his hair.

Robb tenderly took her wrist down from his head and held it in his. They stood there in silence, looking at one another. It wasn't long before Nysa's eyes began to water.

"Do you think her pretty?"

Robb closed his eyes and nodded his head. He knew it was not the response she'd want but he did not want there to be any more secrets. "She is pretty, but she is not you. You were the one who tempted me into bed," he smiled as Nysa blushed. "You became my beautiful wife and will remain at my side until the Gods end our time. I made a vow to you, Nysa. There will be others who will try to change that, but it won't be undone."

"Do you think about it?"

"Bedding another," Robb asked and Nysa nodded. "There are some who have encouraged the thought."

"Is it because of our fighting?"

Robb sighed and gestured for her to sit on the edge of the bed. "I will admit that marriage to you has not been easy as I thought it would be."

"You thought about what marriage to me would be like?"

"You knew how long I've cared for you, Nysa. We were best of friends in Winterfell. We could share everything with each other. There were times where we'd work on our lessons from the Maester or you'd help me with numbers," he shook his head. "I could not picture anyone else by my side, doing those things with me. I saw your strengths and faults, every day and yet," Robb lifted one of her hands to his lips, "And yet they would not scare me away from you. So yes, I have thought about what marriage with you would be like. And I liked what I saw, I wanted it. I still want it."

Nysa tore her eyes away from his and tried not to cry. "You and I were always good friends, Robb. I don't know how it went so wrong."

"War," he commented. "Torrhen," he suggested causing her to turn back to him. "It was wrong of me to bring him up, forgive me," he looked away then, but Nysa reached her hand up and pulled his face back towards her.

"We should talk about him," she nodded encouragingly. "I guess a part of me hasn't forgiven you or your mother. I still feel..."

"That we are to blame his death or the lack of justice for it," Robb finished.

Nysa shook her head. "That is the wrong type of thinking to have."

"But you thought it regardless," he smiled. "I am not upset about those thoughts, not anymore. I know that," he sighed. "I know that just because he is dead, and you and I are wed, it does not mean that your love for him has disappeared."

"That is a wise way of putting it."

"Well, I have a wise wife," Robb complimented her before kissing her forehead. "I guess I'll admit that I had hoped that it would, that eventually you'd realize that he was not coming back and that you and I were bond together. It's another reason why I decided to marry you in a Sept. I prayed that no one would dispute a marriage that was blessed by the Seven. The only one who put up a fuss about it though was the bride."

"Then I have not been a wise wife at all, in fact I have been rather foolish," she smiled at him. "Forgive me, Robb."

"You are always forgiven."

"I suppose with a foolish wife who constantly argues with you, it was easy to fall victim to the pretty eyes of another," she turned away.

"Nysa..."

"And it is your right," Nysa argued with a saddened expression - trying not to think of how Torrhen had promised that there would never be another. "Kings will take mistresses on. I should have expected it..."

"Not from me," he countered. "My father raised me better. He taught me honor."

"Jon," Nysa said his name softly - as if to contradict him.

"Can I tell you something," he asked gently and turned his body towards hers. "I spoke to my mother about the news regarding Bran and Rickon. During that conversation, Jon was discussed briefly. She didn't say the exact words, but it was implied."

"What was?"

"Did you know that I was born at Riverrun," Robb questioned with a small smile. "Somewhere in this castle, I was also conceived."

Nysa blushed. "Your mother told me," she nodded.

"Did you know that Jon is a few moons older than me?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, a bit confused - before remembering the truth behind his question. Jon's name-day celebration - though smaller than Robb's - was held before his.

"It would reason that if Jon was born before me, then most likely he was conceived before..."

"Before your father and mother were wed," Nysa finished.

Robb nodded. "I believe that my mother was informing me that Jon's mother was before their marriage. And," he cleared his throat, "you know that I've had women before."

Looking away quickly, she took a deep, calming breath. "Did your mother actually say that - that Jon's mother was sometime before they were wed?"

She decided not to dwell on his little admission. Lords often did bed maidens both before and during their marriage. She knew of Torrhen, knew of a few others, included her brother. It would do neither of them good if she chose to focus on what he did before they exchanged vows.

"No," Robb shook his head.

"Then how can you be certain?"

"I'm not. I just," he paused and sighed. "It felt like she had shared that with me for a reason. It happened rather quickly - the conversation of Jon. So brief, that I barely caught it," he shook his head. "But it was there. It was somehow an acknowledgement that my father stayed true to my mother throughout their marriage. And I believe that another reason for my mother to mention Jon - other than conversation about Bran and Rickon - was to somehow inform me that I am a married man now. Kingship or not, lordship or not - I should honor my wife, first and foremost. No other woman should come between that."

She smiled before looking away, thinking about that revelation about Jon, thinking about how Lady Catelyn subtly reproved her son - supported her good-daughter.

"Could I be honest about Lady Jeyne?" She nodded. "It was nice to speak to someone who did not want to run me through with a dagger."

The memory of her holding Jory's dagger, eyes shining with fury and determination as she pulled it back and aimed for his head would always be imprinted in his mind. How did it go so wrong? She thought of her actions earlier. Truth be told, she hadn't truly wanted to stab him with it. Not really.

Robb's statement got its desired effect as Nysa laughed then at how silly her behavior had been. He turned to her, delighted at the sound of joy coming from her mouth.

"I haven't heard you laugh like that since Winterfell."

"Mm," she mumbled. "I miss it. I pray," she sighed. "I pray that we were back there, all of us. I pray that none of this happened, none of this fighting and death and war."

"I pray for that too, but all of this happened regardless of how much we pray for it not to be so."

"I miss Torrhen."

"I know you do," he whispered.

"He's still there."

"I know."

"He shouldn't be, not when I am wed to another man, wed to you," she added as her hand lifted to rest over her heart. "You're in there too, Robb. I just let my anger consumer me and forgot about your feelings, our friendship. It hurt to see you talk to another, confide in, whisper to and walk with another."

"It hurts to see you think of another," he replied softly, trying to keep the conversation honest but light. "Though, that is no excuse for my actions earlier this day or any other day I made you feel unwanted."

"It is no excuse for mine either," she agreed.

"Perhaps we should start anew and forget about trying to hurt or anger the other," Robb suggested. "If it displeases you then I will not keep company with the other Ladies."

"I do not mean for you to go to such extremes. There are still arrangements to be made regarding surrenders and..."

"Okay then," he held her hand gently as he brought it to his mouth. "I will not keep needless company with other Ladies." He kissed her hand then leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. "But I would want to know that you will make changes as well."

Nysa regarded him with a serious expression. "I want to make another vow to you tonight."

"Another vow?"

"You are not the only one your mother has spoken to," she stated. Robb nodded for her to continue. "I vow that even though things are not the same as they once were, that I will put forth my earnest effort into being the same Nysa that you fell in love with in Winterfell. I will do all that I can to restrain myself from disagreeing and arguing with you about decisions that you make - especially in front of your Lords." She looked down in shame. "You were right that they were your Lords first."

Robb began to shake his head, but she put up her hand to quiet him.

"It does neither of us any good when we try to outdo one another so," she paused, "I will endeavor to respect you, aid you and admire you as I once did. And I will refrain from comparing you to Torrhen Karstark."

He looked away and it was obvious that - despite her never saying it out loud to him, he knew she had thoughts of it - her comparison had deeply impacted him.

"I am sorry for that, Robb. But know this," she held up a finger, "I trust his father and his brother, I always have. House Karstark has always been loyal to House Stark. There were so many moons I spent in Karhold and do you know what the primary lesson that had been taught to me while I was there? It was how honorable House Stark was and the ties that bonded House Karstark to them are unbreakable. There is loyalty there, I know it. You have to give Lord Karstark a chance, Robb."

"I did not slight him because of your feelings for Torrhen."

"The other Lords talk of it and you haven't silenced it. I have to ask Robb, did..."

Robb sighed and answered, "I did." He kept her hand in his. "I did overlook him once we arrived in Harrenhal because I knew that that is where your heart was."

Nysa nodded in understanding. "Torrhen may be gone but House Karstark is not and neither is that bond between the houses nor my respect for that House."

Robb nodded. "I understand."

"I'm in this with you Robb. Anything you need of me, you just ask," she prompted as he leaned forward to give her another kiss - this time on her lips.

He smiled softly and touched her cheek. "Can I make a vow to you, now?" Nysa nodded. "Know this, my wife," he pulled her into his lap, "that on this night I vow to you that I will include you in the decisions that I make. I will consult you for your opinion on the matter and see what the best solution is before I settle on anything. I am sorry about sending you here to Riverrun just because I was upset with you. I could have handled that better. And I am sorry about allowing Lord Bolton's words to discredit you."

"He is one of your Lords and..."

"Regardless," Robb shook his head. "I didn't take you into account. When you argued about Ramsay fighting for the North before the Freys had departed - it made me realize that if I had just asked you for advice before the meeting or even after one, things might have gone better. With that being said, I will be honest about my feelings and thoughts as I want you to be honest with me about yours. I will be the same Robb that protected you and made you smile as you once did back in Winterfell. But," he held up his finger as she did causing her to smile widely. "Know that I am already deeply in love with you Nysa Stark."

"Robb..."

"Say it back to me when there isn't any doubt in your body, Nysa. That every part of you, body, mind and heart is madly in love with me. That's the only way I want to hear it," he insisted. "You are my best friend, my wife and most trusted confidant. Now you are my Queen. I will continue to prove my love to you so that you'd never doubt it. And I pray that one day you will do the same."

"I will."

"Good."

"No more secrets," she asked.

"No more," he confirmed.

"Then I have something to tell you, Robb."

Nysa pulled back and took his hand from her waist, moving it around to rest on her stomach. Robb waited for her to speak. After a moment he realized what she was suggesting. Slowly, he moved his hand around and noticed the swell, the change in her that could only mean one thing. His eyes darted back from where his hand lay to her face and then back again.

"Truly?"

Nysa nodded.

His arms wrapped around her, embracing her closely as he smothered her with kisses. She moaned delightfully at the sudden attack. That was when he decided that this time it would be different. Picking her up from his lap, Robb moved her back slowly against the bed and pressed gentle kisses to her cheek, her neck, the skin between her breasts until he reached her stomach. The swell was there, and he wondered why he had not noticed it before.

"Mine," he whispered, running his fingers over the material that rest between him and his child.

She took a moment to release a deep breath. The statement that she would have to accept -

"Yours," Nysa whispered in reply before pulling Robb up to kiss her lips. Yes, the child was Robb's. Nysa was Robb's.

They made love long into the night and again when the morning came. They spoke of matters - both important and those of silly nonsense. And once the talking had ended, the love-making began. They held each other, touched each other and smiled until the sun was high in the sky. His guards knocked on the door to their chambers many times. It wasn't until Arya had come pounding on the door that they decided it was time to leave their peaceful paradise.

"Grey Wind is snapping at everyone's heels," Arya shouted as they both laughed lightly. "If you don't come out right now, I'm likely to start snapping at the heels of your insufferable Lords, too!"

* * *

"Is this true," Lord Bolton questioned, holding the letter in front of him.

The guard nodded. "Your son confirmed it. Lord Stark's bastard is reclaiming the North for his brother. Ramsay had scouts and hunters at Hornwood, Ramsgate and near Karhold. They are speaking of Winterfell being rebuilt."

Lord Bolton snorted before looking away. "The King Who Lost the North," he huffed. "He will soon be the King who saved the North if his bastard brother succeeds."

"There's still a lot to do, my Lord. A lot more to do," he replied. "Let me go North. Let me..."

"No," Lord Bolton set the letter down. "Let that bastard fight the Ironborn," he smiled then, "let him clean up that place for me." Lord Bolton stood up and patted the guard before smiling at the rest of his men. "We'll head North soon enough."

"My Lord?"

Both men turned to see Walda Frey - now Walda Bolton - walking into the room. He secured House Frey by wedding one of Lord Frey's granddaughters. He didn't care what Stark's bastard was doing. House Frey would side with him and soon the North would be his. Not to mention, Bolton would have gained the respect of House Frey. They weren't fighters but they were enough of them to make a small army.

"Have my men take my wife to the Dreadfort," Lord Bolton turned towards Lothar Frey, "we will be heading North very soon. Do not worry about that, my friend."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Robb stood on the edge of the river, the soft lapping at his feet and shook his head. This was madness. Grey Wind pawed at the muddy ground and looked ready to charge at the calm ripples in the water. Even Grey Wind knew that it was dangerous to be out here. This was certainly madness. Smalljon Umber, Daryn Hornwood, and Dacey Mormont snickered behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at them - silencing the laughter - before gazing back out at his wife.

"The funeral will be just down there," Nysa gestured, her body turning in the river.

"I'm sure it will be. Will you..."

A small splash of water hit his face, causing his guards then to erupt in laughter. Robb wiped the drops off his cheek before staring angrily at Nysa. "Is my husband scared of the water," she teased, paddling further out.

He shook his head and watched in horror as she went into deeper water. "Come back here, Nysa," he demanded, going in but stopping when he felt the water reach his knees. It was cool and flowing around him - too fast for his liking.

"It's just a river, Robb," Nysa laughed. "You'll be carrying your grandfather's boat down."

"Aye and I'm sure that I don't need to swim to do so!"

She only giggled and continued to swim out into the small current.

"You'll get carried down and end up in King's Landing," he shouted. Grey Wind growled and yipped at the water, running in every now and then until his coat was soaked, before running back towards the edge.

"I've been out here many times, Robb. Your mother did this all the time as a little girl," she insisted.

This time his patience was running thin. He marched towards her until the water was up to his chest, scrunching up his face, he began to whisper in a frustrated manner. "She wasn't with child at the time! Now get..."

He paused, his eyes widening as she fell under the water. Grey Wind was the first to react, swimming past Robb, barking and howling for the Queen. The only guards who reacted were Smalljon and Daryn. Dacey put her hand up to stop them. And just as they turned to look at her, they heard the Queen's gasp for air as she broke the surface and wrapped her arms around the King's neck.

Nysa began to laugh at the shocked expression on Robb's face. "Jayne taught that to me. It's called diving."

"I don't care what that was," he wrapped his arm around her waist and began pulling her back towards the shallow water, "you don't ever do that again."

"No," she protested, kicking with her foot to keep them where they were. "We are fine right here," she pressed her body against his. Even in the cool water, Robb could feel her warmth. "Let us just relax a moment," she whispered, leaning in to kiss his neck before repeating the sensual movements to his throat, jaw and finally his face.

It wasn't long until Robb's cock began to harden, the arousal coursing through his veins as he and Nysa swayed in the water, exchanging passionate kisses. The guards had long left by the time he decided to free her breast from her gown. Grey Wind sat on the shore - the only presence there to keep a watchful eye on the King and Queen. They were lost in one another. Robb would have taken Nysa right then and there, if not for the distant splashing and laughing he heard.

Pulling his lips from hers, he turned his head and gazed further up the river. His brow furrowing in confusion. Nysa adored that scowl.

Touching his forehead, she pushed her body further into his - trying to get his attention back on her. "What are you looking at, my King?"

"Who is that with Arya," he questioned, a tightness in his voice that wasn't due to their passion.

Nysa looked over and laughed. Arya was with Gendry.

"I've seen him around Riverrun. I've also seen him at Harrenhal. Who is he?"

She dragged Robb a little bit further into the shallows so that Arya and Gendry were blocked from his sight. "A friend," she replied before freeing his cock and stroking it slowly. Robb's full gaze turned back towards her, his eyes darkening. "Now where were we, husband?" She eased her body slowly down onto him, her warmth replacing her hand. And the river's current, his sister's friend and his grandfather's pending funeral were all but forgotten for the moment as they moved together.

* * *

Robb tried to hide a chuckle as his mother lightly hit him. Catelyn didn't want it to look obvious that she was scolding her son or that he was laughing at his Uncle. Robb was a King after all and Edmure was now Lord of Riverrun. Edmure took a deep breath and released a third arrow in the air.

Nysa heard a slight giggle from the side and turned her head to spy Jayne and Lyra smiling. She moved her hand as if to hush them. Jayne rolled her eyes before looking away to say something into Brynden Blackwood's ear, only for him to chuckle.

On the other side, Catelyn gave her son a disapproving look.

"Nysa could have shot it," he said causing Nysa to wrap her hand around his arm.

"Do not tease your Uncle," she chastised.

The crowd gasped then. All three of them looked up to see the Blackfish push Edmure back and ready the bow himself. Edmure turned to look at Catelyn and she gave her brother a small smile. Robb on the other hand didn't seem to ease that much. Nysa remembered Robb saying that he had wanted her to keep an eye on Edmure. He was raiding the Westerlands far too much for Robb's liking. Nysa had to agree on that as well. She had seen five young Lannister boys along with Lord Frey's grandson all dragged back as 'prized' prisoners.

Lady Catelyn sighed a breath of sadness and relief as Ser Brynden released his arrow and walked away. Nysa looked on to see the boat catch with flames. Robb put a comforting arm around his mother as they watched Lord Hoster Tully's boat flow down the Red Fork.

 _Where one river ends, another one begins._

* * *

Nysa tried not to let her surprise show that Robb had requested her attendance during the meeting with Edmure. It was true that the past two days their relationship had changed dramatically. But there was something precious about this request - he was acknowledging her strengths, her contributions as not just his wife but also as a Queen.

"You have spent more time with the River Lords," Robb confessed. "One of your Ladies is from the Riverlands. You know their concerns," he said softly. "I was declared their King and yet, I find myself losing ground with them."

She reached up to touch his cheek and marveled at how grown up he had looked from the young man she left behind in Winterfell. "I was at a loss in the beginning as well. Your mother helped a lot."

"I'm glad that she did."

"Your mother has a brilliant outlook on how things operate in Westeros," Nysa added. "I know that you may be upset with her and there were times that I was as well. But we need each other, Robb. We need to work with one another," she said and immediately Robb's mind went to what Bran had told him. "I think she should be here for this meeting."

Robb nodded but looked away. "I'll allow her this moment to grieve for her father. Then we'll meet with her after Edmure," he confessed. "I have other things to tell her."

He turned Nysa completely to him, blocking the guards that surrounded them. Ser Stevron stood next to Lyra and Jayne - along with Ser Danwell Frey - behind their Queen. As Daryn Hornwood, Smalljon and Dacey stood behind their King.

"I believe that Bran is still alive."

"As do I."

"No, Nysa," he shook his head. "Something happened when I was in Castamere, something with Grey Wind. It's madness, I know. My father had told me once that dire wolves shared a strong bond with the Kings of Winter - House Stark," he licked his lips. "This bond allowed the wolf to know what its human thought, what it wanted." Nysa narrowed her eyes at him. "Bran was able to use that bond. That's how I know he is still alive and well."

"Robb..."

"Nephew," Edmure called out as they both turned to him.

Edmure was accompanied by Ser Brynden - a comforting sight for Nysa that the older knight was there. She had enjoyed his company and he had provided that needed stability for Lady Catelyn that she craved. He gestured for Robb and Nysa to enter the room they were to speak in while the guards stood outside. The only admittance in the room that wasn't a Lord had been Jayne. She was permitted to enter under the guise that she was to serve the water and wine or whatever fruit and bread had been prepared for them. Nysa would ask her later for advice.

Edmure was the first to talk.

Nysa could feel the frustration rolling off Robb in waves as Edmure stated what he had been doing. So far, it wasn't that impressive - at least not what Robb had intended for his campaign. He wanted to protect the Riverlands and the North, his family - that was the main purpose in all this.

"We took hostages," Edmure related, "Lannister hostages."

"Willem and Martyn Lannister," Nysa sighed, "mere children. And let us not forget little Loreon Lannister - who is barely ten years old. He came in here with Tion Frey - Lord Frey's grandson," Nysa added with a slight laugh. "And of course, there's..."

"Yes, there's so much Lannisters that I captured. All the while, you've been tending to," Edmure accused.

"Because they are children," Nysa stood up from her seat.

"Look Nysa..."

"She is your Queen," Ser Brynden moved to stand next to Edmure. "Your King's wife."

"Robb knows I meant no disrespect to either him or his wife."

"What was disrespectful was you dragging those children around here like trophies," Ser Brynden said as he nodded towards Nysa who slowly sat back down. "Our Queen there brought the Mountain's head to our King. She and Princess Arya captured Harrenhal," he smiled. "And what do you bring him?"

"Children," Robb answered as Edmure looked at him. "Tywin Lannister still has my sister, Sansa. I think she is," he turned to Nysa, "fourteen, fifteen now," he questioned. "He wouldn't release her in exchange for his own son. What makes you think he'll settle for peace because we have his brother's son's nephew's - whoever they are?"

"I didn't know," Edmure admitted.

"Perhaps you would have, if you had decided to greet and welcome the Queen into your home," Robb looked at Nysa and reached over to grab her hand in his. "She's been here for more than a moon's time and has spoken to every other River Lord but you. I heard that upon her arrival here, there was an attempt on her life. My mother and sister were in danger as well," he leaned forward to look at Edmure in the eyes. "And the guards in Riverrun were kidnapping children."

Edmure sighed and nodded.

"We don't harm children or women," Robb agreed, looking at Edmure. "If we do, we're no better than the Lannisters. I wanted to secure the Riverlands from their attempts at invading. I didn't want you to continue siege on their lands. Battles mean nothing, if they don't bring us closer to victory."

Edmure nodded and Robb gestured for him to take a seat.

He waved his hand towards the door and Jayne went to open it. A few guards, including Harrion, brought in Ser Tytos Brax. "Ser Tytos," Robb nodded to him. "Your brother Ser Flement has surrendered for your safety."

Ser Tytos spat on the ground. Harrion gripped the back of his tunic and hit him in the back of the head. Two other guards moved to continue their physical assault on him, but Nysa stood up quickly and waved them off. Robb was prepared to ask her to sit. Remembering their conversations as of late, he allowed her to stop them.

"Your father is dead, Ser Tytos," Nysa said as he groaned and looked up at her. "His brother is dead. Don't you think you've lost enough?"

"I'll lose more than just kin. Lose my honor, if I ever surrendered Hornvale," he pushed the guards back with a shake of his shoulders. "My brother is an idiot."

"We do what we need to for the ones that we love. You are the Lord of Hornvale now. I'm sure your brother knows he can't do it without you," she nodded to him. "We have captured Banefort, Wyndhall, Ashemark, the Crag, and Deep Den. Cornfield and Crakehall have surrendered. There should be no more dying."

There was a moment of silence as he hung his head low.

"I heard about what you did," Ser Tytos spoke up, "how you kept the Lannister boys alive," he said looking towards her. "You are truly generous my Queen. But I don't want to upset Lord Tywin any further. He is a powerful man - more powerful than you could ever know. If he hears of how easily the Houses in West gave in," he shook his head and looked down. "I rather have you kill me."

Robb stood then, an idea in his mind.

"Ser Tytos Brax," he spoke as the knight kept his head bowed. "I am to release you from our captivity then."

"Robb," Nysa turned sharply towards him.

He took a deep breath and walked forward until he reached the man they held as prisoner.

"You are to deliver a message for me to Tywin Lannister," he said as the mood in the room shifted. "You inform him of how many castles we have, how many guards, knights and Lords have surrendered to the North and the Trident," his voice was low and threatening. "You let him know that if he does not give us back my sister, then I will have my men march forward on Casterly Rock just as swiftly and as easily as they took everything else in the Westerlands."

"You'd threaten a lion," Ser Tytos smirked in disbelief.

"My wife here," he held up her hand, "cut down his pet. When you leave Riverrun, I'll have the men point out the Mountain's head for you."

His eyes widened as Harrion picked him up and led him out of the room.

"And exactly how do we plan on taking Casterly Rock," asked Ser Brynden.

"We need more men," Edmure stated.

"Exactly why I wanted them here," Robb looked over his shoulder. "I wanted them with my Queen, awaiting my instruction, awaiting her instruction. Instead, they weren't." Robb licked his lips in frustration. "And now we have lost House Frey."

"Lord Frey will not bend the knee again," Ser Brynden shook his head. "And Ser Stevron is not Lord. He cannot command the rest of his household to join you. He and the others may have taken a liking to your wife, but they do not speak for all of House Frey."

"We will need to make amends somehow," Robb seemed troubled.

"I have an idea," Nysa said as they turned towards her. "I'll go to the Twins and speak to Lord Frey about..."

"Out of the question," Robb stopped her and turned back to Edmure and Ser Brynden.

"But Robb..."

"I'm not sending you there, Nysa," he looked at her with a stern expression. "I would not put your life in danger, nor the life of our unborn child. It's too risky."

Dead silence filled the room then as the two men glanced between the King and Queen. Ser Brynden could only assume that this was the secret that Catelyn and the young Queen kept. Robb slowly pushed back her cloak revealing the slight swell of her stomach. It wasn't obvious to the naked eye but once Robb touched her midsection and the dress clung to her body, they could see it then. He placed a kiss on her brow and turned them both around to face the room.

"The Queen is with child."

"They always say that when one river ends," Ser Brynden stepped forward, "another one begins," he nodded to Nysa.

"To the King and Queen," Edmure stood from his seat, "and their child."

"Aye," Ser Brynden placed one hand on Robb's shoulder and the other on Nysa's. "We should celebrate this good news."

* * *

"You don't suppose there's anything we can do about this," Tyrion asked his sister as they watched Loras Tyrell attempt to court Sansa Stark.

Cersei smiled politely. "We could have them both killed," she suggested.

"It's hard to say which of the four of us are getting this arrangement," he began, knowing that his sister was more than likely seriously thinking about ways to kill Loras and Sansa. "Probably Sansa," he named. "Though Loras," he paused as she turned around and looked at him.

"Father is scared. It's the only reason why he's doing this."

"Father is never scared," Tyrion waved her off.

"There's a girl that we're forgetting about, I know it is her," she said before walking towards her seat.

"Oh," Tyrion feigned shock. "Are we putting the blame on some bastard from the North, now?"

"She is the Queen of the North," Cersei leaned back in her chair, "Queen of the Trident - they're also calling her. She had a Kingsguard in the palm of her hand. How did she command that?"

"Yes, I know the truth behind that," Tyrion replied. "There's only two people who can give a Kingsguard a command," he leaned against his sister's desk. "I've contributed to the survival of this family - despite what you and father believe. And that is the thanks I receive for my contribution," he said as Cersei remained unmovable. "You worry about one Kingsguard," Tyrion tapped the desk, "the rest are willing to do what their King and the Queen regent desire. Even killing own kin - the Hand of the King," he emphasized, looking at her as she remained quiet.

Tyrion shook his head.

"Nothing to say?"

"I acknowledge your contributions," she said.

Tyrion blinked at her. She had totally dismissed that someone had attempted to have him murdered - either her or Joffrey. He sighed and looked back out the window. "That is alright," he stated. "A bit stupid for the King to order a Kingsguard to assassinate the Hand of the King," he continued, "in front of the King's army. He should have had me poisoned. That would have been cleaner."

"What do you want me to say," Cersei looked at him.

Tyrion and his sister stared at one another for a moment before he sighed and went to walk away.

"I know you may not like to hear this, but I appreciate the fact that this Nysa Snow had use for one of the Kingsguards. He protected Lady Sansa, protected," Tyrion emphasized. "That is their purpose - to protect members of the royal family. Not murder a member of the royal family. I am his Uncle, your brother," he repeated, "whether you like it or not."

Cersei sat back in her chair as her brother exited - wondering all the while where Jamie was. She walked back out to look in the garden where Loras and Sansa were still walking. She easily snuffed out the plan the Tyrells had regarding Sansa. How was it that this girl - this bastard from the North - had concocted a plan without her knowledge? Was her father's statement correct? Was she not smart enough to outwit some bastard? She held her head high. That was impossible.

She is a lion, always will be.

Her children were lions.

Ser Preston had been dealt with. And now Sansa would become a Lannister as well. "We are one move ahead now, Nysa Snow," she said with a smug smile as Sansa continued through the garden. "You'll hear me roar from wherever you are."

Cersei turned away from the window and went back to sit on her desk. She was going to write a letter.

* * *

"I almost feel offended," Jayne smiled as she sat next to Nysa.

They both were brushing their hair for the feast that Ser Brynden demanded they have in honor of the King and his Queen. Lyra had changed in a gown - but kept her sword slung over her back, declaring that this may have been a feast and she may enjoy herself with her sister - but evil plots never rests. She smiled as well at the doorway - for she had known. Something she said she could discern after being around her mother and Alysanne. She had seen the subtle signs in Nysa.

"I wanted to inform the King before everyone else knew," Nysa said.

"It seems that you and the King are on good terms," Jayne nudged her playfully. "I've heard many things about Lords from the North," she softened her voice, "and their activities in the bed."

Jayne laughed as Nysa reached over to hit her teasingly. She had never spoken about Lords and their smiles as much when she was in Winterfell. Sansa thought the boys and men there were silly. She dreamed of Southern knights who danced and read poetry to woo her. When she went to House Mormont - it was always how to defend herself, how to use what was around her to survive.

"A proper Lady never tells," Nysa said, remembering Lady Karstark saying that to her and Wynafryd once when they were caught gossiping.

All three of them began to laugh as there was a knock at the door. Ser Brynden had come down to escort her to the feast.

"Thank you, Ser," Nysa curtsied. "I just need one more moment." He nodded and closed the door behind him. Lyra found Jory's dagger and helped Nysa to strap it to her leg under her dress. Jayne had just tightened the laces on Nysa's dress - eager to show off the Queen's now growing belly - when she made another girlish statement.

"The Blackfish is impressive, isn't he?"

Nysa let out a small laugh.

"He's old," Lyra commented.

"More experience he has then," Jayne said as Nysa whirled around to share in her laughter. "I would sooner wed the Blackfish than I would Lord Edmure Tully," she rolled her eyes in disdain.

"The man could barely shoot a bow," Lyra replied, "but that Blackfish got it in one shot, didn't even look at his target."

"He knew exactly where he wanted _it_ to go," Jayne wiggled her eyebrows at Lyra as they both laughed. "I wonder about Lord Edmure."

"That is the Lord Paramount of the Trident you are speaking of," Nysa shook her head at them.

"Nothing we ever say to you, leaves your confidence," Jayne smiled teasingly.

"My mother always told me to look for a strong and certain man," Lyra added.

"Are you looking for a husband, Lyra," Nysa questioned with a smile.

"Do you have a Lord in mind, my Queen. Or perhaps I should mate with a bear as did my sister," she teased in response.

Nysa gave Lyra a disapproving look before turning towards Jayne. "I never did ask you, Jayne," she began. "You have done so much for me. You have served your Queen well. Is there anything that you would want in return?"

"Do you speak of jewels or gold," Jayne brushed Nysa's dress and pulled her hair in the front.

"No, I speak of marriage."

The Lady walked towards a couch, grabbing Nysa's cloak, fluffing it out. "My father will decide on my marriage for me."

"But you are in my service," Nysa pressed. "If there is a House that you know well, I can speak to that Lord. I could even arrange for you to wed the Blackfish if that is your desire."

Jayne dropped Nysa's cloak to the floor in shock before hurrying down to pick it back up and brushing off any dirt that had gotten on it. "Forgive me, my Queen."

"Jayne," Nysa stepped forward. "Is there someone whom you wish to..."

"My father would never allow it," she shook her head. Jayne then looked up and put on a brave smile. "No matter how much you arrange for it, Nysa."

"It's that young Lord from House Blackwood, isn't it," Lyra asked. "I've seen the glances the two of you exchange." Jayne and Nysa both turned to her - Jayne in complete shock and Nysa in awe. "I've been raised to take notice of my surroundings. I'm guarding my Queen," she nodded to Nysa. "It's hard not to pay attention to the Lady standing beside her, giving coy smiles to the young Lord."

"Does he return your affections," Nysa looked back at Jayne.

Jayne smiled and nodded. "But as I said before, my father would never allow it. Our Houses have always been at odds with one another for years - seasons possibly. And Brynden is Lord Blackwood's heir. And I," she paused and shook her head. "Lord Blackwood would refuse. He is a skilled warrior and may be a trusted Lord to both Lady Catelyn and the King," Jayne sighed, "but he would rather see Brynden wed to a Lannister than a Bracken. What I pray for, is folly."

Nysa took her hands in hers and smiled reassuringly at Jayne. "The Gods work in strange ways," she replied. "Perhaps they will use your Queen to speak to your Lord father and Lord Blackwood."

"You need not trouble yourself, my Queen."

"Jayne, you have helped me to learn so much, grasp things I needed to, and helped me become Queen fit for the Trident. If you and Brynden desire to wed one another, then I will see that your two Houses are joined. Let me speak to your father and his."

* * *

The news of her pregnancy had spread quickly in Riverrun, especially since Robb had requested that she wear her gowns to show off her growing middle. Edmure and several of the Lords had agreed on the feast that was to celebrate new life.

 _When one river ends, another one begins._

Cups were lifted, singing and merriment filled the room. It was a time to rejoice. Ser Tytos had been released and upon hearing that, Ser Merlon Crakehall and Ser Raynald Westerling from the Crag - along with his sister, Jeyne - had questioned about their fathers' release as well. Robb turned to Nysa who gave them the answer that they would need to prove their loyalty to her before it could be done.

"Besides," she lifted her cup and looked at Jeyne, "Ser Tytos is delivering a message for the King. It only takes one man to deliver a message," she drank slowly and then placed the cup down - all the while staring at Jeyne. "What purpose would it serve the King and I to release your fathers when your actions have shown to be questionable," she asked pointedly, "rather than loyal?"

Robb had already been informed by Nysa of Ser Merlon's forward actions and came close to demanding that his head be put on a spike. Instead, Nysa had placated him. Together they talked about the possibility of a plot to tear them apart. A King might not need his Queen and vice versa - but they both realized that if they wanted to win this war, gain the peace that they were fighting for, they would need to work together. And having two people from the Westerlands attempt to break it, they'd have to keep their eyes open for such treachery.

Ser Merlon tried to look appalled, while Ser Raynald looked shockingly at his sister.

"Robb is King of the North and of the Trident. I am his Queen, their Queen. And no one will take that away."

As if to cement her statement, Robb took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, gently kissing her. He smiled and gaze lovingly into her eyes before turning towards the next well-wisher.

However, they didn't receive congratulations from the next Lord.

Lord Glover and a few others stood in front of their table - a somber expression on his face. He held a letter out for Robb.

"News from my wife," he said before bowing towards Nysa. "I am told that we are in debt to the King's brother, Jon Snow."

Those who were at the high-table - Catelyn, Arya, Robb, Nysa, Edmure and Ser Brynden, along with others, looked at him in interest. Nysa reached over excitedly and looked at Robb, hoping that he would make an announcement on the matters concerning Jon. A few Lords who were nearby stopped as well to listen.

"Jon was able to save Lady Sybelle and her children from being taken hostage by the Ironborn," Robb said as he and Nysa scanned the letter.

"He gathered North-men together near Last Hearth, rescued Deepwood Motte and are on their way to Winterfell," she looked at Lord Robett.

"Does my son ride with him," Greatjon asked.

"Aye, he does," Lord Glover nodded to him.

"Osric, that lucky dog," Smalljon chuckled and lifted his cup up to his brother. "To the North," he shouted as others cheered.

"Alysanne Mormont," Robb added, looking towards Maege and her daughters who appeared at the table as well, "also assisted him in defending the shores along the coast. Jon fights with the Houses from the wolfswood as we speak. He rides to make sure that the North is free of Ironborn."

"You will pardon him, won't you Robb," Nysa questioned. "He helped save House Glover and more," Nysa proclaimed as she looked back to Lord Glover who stared at the letter with a smile. "He's defending the North against the Ironborn while you're down here fighting for Sansa and defending the North against those from the Westerlands and more. The least you could do is..."

Robb stood up, causing everyone to fall silent. "I had already written this out," he pulled a small parchment from his tunic and set it on the table. "It was to legitimize Jon as a Stark and name him an heir to Winterfell. After our children, of course," he smiled at Nysa.

Nysa nodded.

"With Bran and Rickon dead, I..." Robb looked to his mother and then back at the parchment. "I needed to secure the North. There's no other person I would trust with it. To show our appreciation for all that Jon is doing, he is pardoned from his vow at the Wall. He'll be known now as Prince Jon Stark."

* * *

Lord Rickard Karstark waited near the edge of Riverrun's bridge. He looked back at the hall where the cheers and fire came from. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out the letter that Torrhen held on him. He had never opened it - never wanted to bring disrespect to his son. It was a letter Torrhen had read repeatedly on their journey south. Harrion said Nysa had written it to Torrhen a couple years ago, declaring her love for him. Now, she was smiling on another man's arm.

"You sent for me?"

Lord Karstark's hand jerked and he looked towards the guard with the flayed man on his armor. "Aye," he folded the letter back into his cloak and nodded. "Tell your Lord that I'll help him."

* * *

Later that night, leaving majority of the party in the hall - Robb, Nysa and Catelyn made their way towards the room that Robb had met with his Lords. He hadn't used it as of late. After releasing Nysa's hand, he walked over to the table and began to arrange his next plan. While doing so, he explained that he released Ser Tytos to deliver a message to Tywin, warning him that they were in position to strike Casterly Rock.

Catelyn stared at the map.

"Why are you sharing this with me?"

"You begged me not to send Theon to negotiate with his father. And I ignored your advice. Now Winterfell is burnt to the ground. The North is overrun with Ironborn. Bran and Rickon are gone," Robb said. "Nysa is with child, my child," he looked at her then. "What will I be bringing my child home to? Nothing," he answered, reaching out to touch Nysa's stomach, reveling in the feel of the bump that was hidden under her dress. "If I had listened to you, Theon wouldn't have betrayed me."

Nysa looked at Catelyn before touching Robb's arm, comfortingly. Robb looked up at his wife, moved forward to press a kiss to her forehead before pulling away to face his mother.

"I'm asking for your advice now, mother."

"Do we have enough men?"

"I need Walder Frey to cooperate," Robb picked up the Twins and held it up for his mother.

"If Walder Frey cooperates," she said in a disbelieving tone. "He's lost two marriages to House Stark, two," she reminded looking over at Nysa.

Robb took a deep breath. "I believe Bran is still alive," he said. "Mother, while in Castamere, Bran spoke to me."

Catelyn straightened and briefly pressed her lips in annoyance.

"Grey Wind," he gestured to the direwolf who lay in the corner. "I was pouring out my woes and concerns - majority of them about my Kingship and about my Queen," he glanced at Nysa. "Grey Wind laid down. I thought he was ignoring me. But I think Bran was using him to speak to me."

"You heard the letter from Bolton," Catelyn snapped. "His son found nothing at Winterfell. It's been burnt to the ground by the Ironborn. Jon may be on his way, but it is too late! There's nothing there."

"You're right," Robb nodded, "there is nothing there. But Bran is alive. I felt it."

"Because your wolf told you," she pointed to Grey Wind in a huff. "He's an animal! He doesn't know..."

"He must," Nysa spoke up.

Catelyn shook her head and looked away from them. Her eyes beginning to tear. She had lost her father. Hearing the Freys had brought word from Lord Bolton regarding Winterfell and her two sons - her two young boys - she had begun to weep. Robb reached out and wrapped her in his arms. Nysa stood there, patiently observing. That was probably the first time that Robb had comforted his mother. This entire journey, he was still angry with her for releasing the Kingslayer - he had admitted as much to Nysa when they had conversed in their chambers.

"Lady Catelyn," Nysa stepped towards the mother and son, "I remember what you told me, about the direwolves. When you came down to King's Landing to warn Lord Stark," she explained.

 _"The Gods know I did not want them in the Winterfell," she smiled, "but I have seen how they've protected my children."_

Catelyn nodded. "Summer protected Bran. She never left his bedside. And what I was told of Nymeria," she paused before pulling away from Robb, "she defended Arya when she thought she was in danger," Catelyn nodded again, still appearing numb and confused at what Robb had revealed to her. "Why didn't you say something earlier if you thought..."

"Because I don't know who to trust anymore," Robb confessed as Catelyn looked at her eldest son. "I thought I could trust Theon. Look what happened," he stated, glancing to the floor and shaking his head. "And your brother," he paused, "Edmure doesn't know what he's doing half the time. You are my mother," Robb stared at her.

Nysa moved to touch Robb's arm before looking at Catelyn as well. "House Tully's words are 'Family, Duty, and Honor'," she said with a smile. "You became Lady Stark, Lady of Winterfell," then she shook her head, "but those words never left you. You make your decisions based on what you think is best for your family."

"I am sorry Mother for all that you have had to endure these past few months," Robb added, "I should have trusted your judgement. Nysa has mentioned that you guided her in these first months as Queen. I wish I had allowed you to do the same for me," he gestured to the map. "I need your help now."

Lady Catelyn lifted her head and gave her son a confident smile. She walked slowly towards the table and looked at the items on the map. "You plan on surrounding Casterly Rock?"

"If Walder Frey cooperates," Robb stated again.

"What do you plan on giving him? Bran," Catelyn questioned.

"I'm not certain," Robb shook his head. "Ser Stevron and many others are still here. They stay because of Nysa," Robb looked at her. "I know their father will take persuasion of some kind."

Catelyn touched the map and pointed towards King's Landing. "If reinforcements come from the Capital," she pointed as both Nysa and Robb went to stand at her side. "You'll be trapped between Tywin's army and the sea," she moved her finger. "It's dangerous, Robb."

She paused and then looked up at Robb, all traces of her grief were gone.

"Show them how it feels to lose what they love."

* * *

"Bran," one of the boys rejoiced from the top of the steps. Jon hid a laugh as Beth, TomToo and the other children they found waved merrily at their arrival.

Benjicot Branch and Cedric Forrester had been left in charge of Winterfell and smiled at the children as well. This was the first true sign of life here in Winterfell. It was a signal for the good that was to come now that a Stark was back. Rickon immediately jumped down from behind Osric Umber and flew towards his childhood companions, Shaggydog yapping excitedly as they all jumped over each other, welcoming one another back.

Bran smiled from his spot in front of Jon. Beth ran towards their horse and reached up for Bran. "You're alive! Thank the Gods, you're alive! Bran and Rickon are back! It's Bran and Rickon!"

Jon watched as Ronnel Woods came then to bring Bran down. A lighthearted feeling as he watched Bran smile and reach out his hand for the other children who were there. They held Bran's hand and cheered as he was carried up the stairs and into the Keep.

 _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell._

* * *

Nysa realized something that night as she lay in Robb's arm. She extricated herself from his arms and headed towards the small bowl to wash her face. Instead she saw her reflection. Tears were running down her cheeks, tasting salty on her tongue. Dipping her hand in the warm water, she reached up to splash away her sadness. She had to be brave now.

Clumsily, she found her clothes in the dim firelight and dressed as quietly and quickly as she could. If this was going to work, she had to do it now. She walked out of the room, closing the door slowly so as not to disturb Robb.

She had waited for his breathing to slow down after their love-making. Surely, he would sleep through the night now. She took a step back and thought about what she had done earlier. Edmure Tully had said it couldn't be done. But now Jayne Bracken was betrothed to Brynden Blackwood - both their fathers had allowed it because Nysa had arranged it. She could arrange something with Lord Walder Frey, she was sure of it.

"My Queen," Smalljon interrupted her half-way down the hall.

Nysa put a hand over her heart. "You surprised me," she smiled and attempted to feign ignorance. "I'm glad that I've found you, Jon," she looked around at the hall. "Do you know where Olyvar is?"

"Olyvar?"

Smalljon lifted an eyebrow at her in question. Of course, that was silly. What would she be doing asking for her husband's squire in the middle of the night?

"Yes," she nodded. "Olyvar Frey," she repeated. "I need to ask him something about his father. It's an important matter concerning acquiring men for Robb's march onto Casterly Rock."

Recognition dawned on Smalljon's face. "You wish for Olyvar to deliver a message?"

"I do," she lied. "That's exactly what this is," she looked around again, nervously. "So, may you please get him for me?"

Smalljon nodded and walked away, not before Nysa noted that three other guards had come up in his place. She should have known that Robb would have placed one of his own personal guards or House Stark guards to watch over their chambers. She nodded at Cayn - who had been wearing a grief-stricken expression since the news of Winterfell's massacre had arrived. She would demand that he have justice for his son.

"My Queen," Smalljon returned quickly with the young man at his heels. "Olyvar Frey as promised."

"Thank you, Jon," she nodded to him. "That will be all."

Nysa waited until they had left her in the hallways with Olyvar. He looked like he was still asleep. She didn't know it was possible. Normally, if someone had awakened her in the middle of the night, saying that Lady Catelyn or Lord Stark had summoned her - she'd jump up quickly.

"How can I help you, my Queen?"

She was certain that her answer would get his attention.

"Olyvar, you need to take me to the Twins"

There it was. His eyes widened and his back straightened. "I can't do that, your Grace," Olyvar shook his head.

"I'm begging you. It's the only way."

"The only way for what," he questioned.

"The only way to settle peace with House Frey."

"If we go, you're likely not to make it out of there alive. And the King would have my head! And me," he took a step back, breathing in and out quickly and nervously. "I am not one who will get my father's respect. You best take Stevron or Danwell with you. One of my older brothers," he insisted. "They could get you an audience with him and," he emphasized, "get you out of the Twins unharmed."

"Olyvar, please," she begged. "I need to do this. It was I who wronged your House. It is I who should make it right."

Olyvar continued to refuse it until Nysa pushed him against the wall.

"As your Queen, I am commanding you to take me," she whispered harshly.

Reluctantly, Olyvar helped Nysa to leave Riverrun in the dead of the night and travel to the Twins. Little did either one of them know that Smalljon, Cayn, Desmond and Wyl had seen their departure.

* * *

Perwyn watched his younger brother stand there in the middle of their father's hall begging that he and his companion be allowed to speak freely and depart quickly. All he wanted was a meeting with his Lord father to discuss House Stark's arrangements. Unfortunately for Olyvar, his father wouldn't hear him. Perwyn, Jared and a few others desired to know what it was that their King and Queen had decided upon, what was discussed after they had left. Another thing Perwyn wondered was why did the King and Queen send Olyvar instead of Stevron?

"And where are the rest of my sons," their father asked.

"They would have come but..."

"Would have come," he choked back a chuckle. "I demanded that they come home. Did your time away turn you all into dishonorable cheats?"

Olyvar tried to argue.

"Do none of you respect your own father anymore?"

"We do, Lord father," he replied nervously.

Perwyn shook his head at his brother's lack of for being diplomatic. Their father was going to continue with his blunt manner. He had to grow a backbone, or he would just be one of the many Freys that lived here - a nameless, faceless oddity in their father's House.

"We also respect our King and our Queen..."

"There's nothing left for us to fight for King Robb - traitorous oath breaker," Lord Walder Frey coughed and pointed towards the cup on his table.

"They want to express their sincere..."

"I would not accept apologies from the Starks, even if it were the Queen herself before me!"

"Then it is a shame that I came all this way," the figure behind Olyvar spoke up.

Perwyn knew that voice. He closed his eyes in frustration. There was no way that _she_ had come here - not with just Olyvar as her guard. But as he heard his brothers, nephews and other kin's shocked voices, he knew that it was their Queen who had come with his younger brother to the Twins.

How foolish of her. How foolish of Olyvar to agree to this!

Perwyn glanced at the doorway then. There would likely be no escape for her now. Why did she decided to do such a thing?

Damn her.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Nysa removed the hood of her cloak as gasps and murmurs erupted in the hall. "Lord Walder Frey, I am Queen Nysa Stark, Queen of the North and of the Trident. And I have come here in behalf of my husband to apologize for...

"You are either very brave or very foolish to be here, your Grace," Lord Frey interrupted her.

Nysa was considering those two characteristics seriously right now. She had never felt so scared in her life - not even when Ser Jamie was standing over her, ready to command his guards to end her life, not even when Arya had disappeared at the crossroads, not even when she had traveled to Karhold to assist Lady Karstark, not even when her brother had left her in Winterfell and went South with Lord Stark to fight the Ironborn rebellion. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she stood behind Olyvar. It was certainly a brave thing to do. But Gods, this was a foolish thing to do, also.

She took a deep breath and put on a confident smile - at least the most confidence that she could muster. "On the contrary, to treat with a Lord such as yourself," she replied, "it is no foolish feat. I consider it a privilege to be shown the hospitality of the Twins," she looked around and gulped. "I am sad that King Robert had decided to skip over the Twins on his journey South. I would have longed to see this castle, this amazing, strong..."

Lord Frey scoffed before leaning back in his chair. "Were those sweet words the reason why the King bedded you?"

"I must say that I do not know his exact reasons," Nysa answered. "We argued when he announced that he would wed me. And though it is no business of yours, we still disagree about our marriage."

"Oh, do you really," Lord Walder snorted.

"I have confessed to him and will admit to you that our actions were foolish. It was wrong to dishonor you and your House. You supplied him _fine_ knights," she looked around and saw narrowed eyes and judging faces, "very fine knights to fight for him. Some of your sons have suffered imprisonment, injury or even death. And he repays you by betraying your trust," Nysa said with an irritated tone. "And I am to be this man's Queen?"

Nysa made a sound of disgust. She wasn't certain if she was going a bit overboard with her theatrics.

"You seem to be living comfortably. You even look to be with child."

She smiled then and touched her stomach. "Aye, I am."

"Which is another reason why I think you are foolish for coming here," he noted, leaning forward and staring her down. "You would risk the life of your unborn child so easily?"

"There is no risk," Nysa commented, looking around again with a small smile. "I know that you or none of your kin will cause harm to me. You have no evil thoughts behind your mind - no," she shook her head and nervously laughed. "Though I can suspect some of you probably did," she turned to see Black Walder smile wickedly at her. "I know that no one would act so treasonous - not the honorable Lord Walder Frey," she looked at him, "and the mighty House Frey."

"Flatterer," he commented.

"And if it is a risk to apologize to you, to mend what was broken and hold you to such honor as the other Lords under the King then I will endure it. You are Lord Walder Frey, you are a proud man - one who is not likely to be crossed. I know the strength that is here. That is why I have come."

"What do you propose? That I take your words as sincere regret? That I allow my sons to continue fighting for your husband who broke his promise to me?"

"In all honestly, I do," she replied.

A few of the Frey men began to shout obscenities at her. It was then that she noticed a few had moved to stand by her side, one of them was Perwyn and the other was Jared. She recognized the others but at the moment their names escaped her. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she blinked her eyes rapidly to stay strong, stand upright and certain. Nysa tried her best to reign in her fear and turned back towards Lord Frey.

"You misunderstand me, my Lord. Has Olyvar not explained that to continue this alliance, I will make an agreement of terms with you?"

Lord Walder put up a shaky hand to silence his sons. Nysa waited with bated breath as he considered her. His eyes were distrusting. She wondered if he could see her fear growing. Her fingers twitched with heat. She tried to calm down, counting her numbers and saying the noble Houses of the North in her head - a trick she taught to Jon to do when he lost his temper. The fear was adding to the heat crawling through her. She didn't want to use the fire - not here, not now. Surely Lord Frey would kill her then.

"I take it your husband does not know of this venture?"

"He does not," she answered.

"Then why come here," he barked at her. "Why decide to settle his disputes with me?"

"I became his Queen. And as such, I should assist him when he needs it," she responded. "And I know how it feels to be slighted by a man who doesn't keep his word. I feel for your daughters, all of them. I think about her and her woes every night," Nysa added. "To know such heartache," she attempted to look grief-stricken. "It was despicable to bring shame to your daughters. It will haunt the King and I for an eternity to know that..."

"Enough," he said before chuckling. He then turned towards a few of his sons. "Sweet words and a pretty face," he nodded towards Nysa, "and she claims to have sympathy for my daughters. Ha!"

Nysa smiled politely as he studied her.

"I understand you have my son Stevron with you," he stated. "You have a quite a few of them with you actually, nursed them back to health in Harrenhal."

"Yes, my Lord."

"They choose their King over family," Walder snorted again.

"They are angered as well by his Grace's actions but..."

"But I assume your pretty words kept them there," he eyed her for a long moment before turning to a few of his other sons. "How do you plan to make amends," he asked. "I would hope that it is a very tempting opportunity for me."

"Indeed, it is. I would seek to replace the marriage that one of your daughters lost. As you know Lord Hoster Tully has passed. Lady Catelyn Stark has been acting as Lady of Riverrun, but it would need someone more permanent, especially when Lady Catelyn returns to the North. Lord Edmure Tully, heir to Riverrun, will need a wife."

Lord Walder scoffed.

"For almost twenty years I've been trying to get Edmure betrothed to one of my daughters," he scoffed. "I doubt you'll have any luck."

"I will. Lord Edmure owes me and the King," she answered.

"No man can compel another man to marry."

"It's a good thing I'm a woman," she smiled and laughed lightly. Lord Walder sighed and rubbed his temple. She looked over at a few of the Freys who whispered and spoke to another. Just now she saw a few women had come out in attendance. When they first arrived, there were only men. They must have come to see her. "Your daughter would become Lady of Riverrun," she nodded to one of them. "Surely that is nothing to turn your eye from, Lord Frey?"

"Aye it is not. But that alone is not enough."

"Not enough," she asked in confusion.

"You give a husband for a husband, but they are not the same. You give me a Lord when you stole marriage to a King. Therefore, you will replace it with five marriages to Lords of great Houses."

"Five marriages," Nysa exclaimed.

"If I am to give that young wolf my sons and grandsons then I want to secure my daughters and granddaughters," Walder snarled. "Five marriages in replacement of the one that had been owed to me," he continued. "And if I recall correctly, I had two marriages that were owed to me," he added, "if we remember the fallen Prince."

Nysa thought a moment and then nodded. "Five marriages then," she confirmed.

"Bring them all out," Lord Walder called before grabbing a rag and coughing into it.

Nysa gulped as the young women began to line up in front of her. "You cannot expect me to choose, do you?"

"I said I wanted five marriages!"

"And I agreed to them, but I would want to know the girls first before they are to..."

"You are to choose now!"

"But I would have to speak to the King," she protested.

"Is it because he'll go back on his word to me yet again?"

"I am the one making this arrangement with you, but the Lords would want to meet their brides first. You yourself stated that no man can compel another to wed. And yes, I am their Queen, but I am sure that they would want proper notification on something so permanent. And the King would want to be sure that..."

"That what, girl," Lord Walder barked. "I do not want a lengthy betrothal. They've cost me before," he eyed Nysa out heavily. "I want five marriages done immediately. I want them wedded and bedded the day your husband comes to retrieve you."

"Retrieve me?"

Walder Frey leaned forward and smiled. "Do you really think that I'm going to allow you to walk out that door, my Queen?"

"Lord Father, we would not want to anger our King," Ser Jared stated from her side, his sword still clutched in his hand.

"Neither would we want to anger our Queen," Perwyn said, remembering the tale of what happened outside of Riverrun.

"And besides, how would I speak to the King about this arrangement," Nysa questioned.

Lord Frey's shaky hand pointed to the other side of Nysa where Olyvar stood before he sat back in his chair and smiled. "We'll send him word by messenger," he replied. "In the meantime, you will stay here to ensure that the marriages take place."

"You're holding me hostage?"

"No," he chuckled, "you're merely a guest in this amazing, strong castle. Something to be considered a privilege - your words, I believe."

She looked down - more so in shame than in fear. She should have seen this coming. If Cersei Lannister had walked into their camp, Robb would have done the same thing - held her as a bargaining chip for Sansa.

"So, am I not going to be allowed to leave?"

"You will," he replied, "once the weddings have taken place. And do not fret about it, my Queen. You'll be given the best accommodations here in the Twins."

Nysa berated herself slightly before shaking her head. Lord Frey definitely would hold her hostage here. Though it would not look like it, that's exactly what this was. Robb wouldn't be pleased - with both the situation and with her. She took a deep breath and tried to keep calm. She knew that if she showed fear, that it would do her no good. The flattery had worked before, she could continue that. But she also needed to keep a leveled head on her shoulders.

"What of allowing the brides to see their intended husbands," she questioned. "You will not even give them time to know one another?"

"And for what purpose," he leaned forward again, "so that they can find fault with my daughters? Bah," he threw the coughing rag towards Nysa's feet, but she did not move. A few girls in front of her did. It made her feel pity for them all. "You think I don't know what they say about my girls," he continued to leer at her. "Do you know how difficult it is to marry them off into great noble houses? Rubbish - the whole lot of them," he waved his hand. "And if I have your Lords come here, they'll only back out of it as did your King."

Nysa tried not to look appalled at the way Walder treated his daughters. She smiled encouragingly at one of them. "Lord Walder, surely there is a hidden treasure among..."

"Flattery has already gotten you an audience with me but not my completely forgiveness," he sat back and looked towards the room. "Well? Line up for her Grace," he commanded as Nysa shut her eyes.

She could not believe that she was to pick five girls out from a group. It made her feel sick.

"Choose!"

Nysa sighed before stepping forward. She could not tell how many of them stood before her. A few caught her eyes as being terribly improper. She stepped towards one of them as the girl flung her blonde hair over her shoulder, exposing her revealing dress. Nysa bit back a sound of annoyance and took a step back.

"What is your name?"

"Amerie, your Grace," she smiled before straightening her shoulders, making her dress drape just a bit further from her body.

"She has been wedded before," Perwyn whispered beside her.

"Bedded numerous times as well," Olyvar murmured. "I do not know how proud Lord Edmure is but I'm certain he wouldn't want Amerie as his wife."

The young Queen took that into consideration before looking up. "You give me a bride who has already been wed," Nysa questioned Lord Walder.

"She is a widow now," he waved his hand. "But she is still young, she'd be able to pop out little Lords. And as you can see she is also one of my fairer ones."

"She is not without her assets," Nysa nodded as Amerie smiled widely. "But I'm afraid that I cannot chose her for Lord Edmure." Amerie pouted at first but turned slightly towards a few other men in the hall. It was obvious that she would not be sad for long. Nysa turned her attention back to the girls and spotted a small head hiding in the back. She took a few steps forward and then let out a huge sigh. "What is your name?"

"Shirei, your Grace."

"And how old are you, Lady Shirei?"

"I am one and ten."

"You give me a child," Nysa screamed turning to Lord Frey.

"I thought that your Lords might like them young," he chuckled. "Gods know I do," he said as he slapped his wife's bottom. Both Lady Joyeuse and Nysa winced as he did so.

Nysa turned back to the girls and cleared her throat. "If you are six and ten or any age under that, you are dismissed," Nysa announced as a few girls released sighs of relief.

"Wait, where is," he looked around. "Right! There you are. Merianne," Lord Walder barked as one girl stopped and turned to him. "I was told that she has flowered," he pointed to her. "She's as ready as the rest of them to take a man between her legs. There is also Alyx and Marissa," he waved the other two girls over. "You three come back to the line."

Nysa looked around the hall and her eyes landed on a woman with a worried look. The woman reached down and took the hand of the woman next to her causing Nysa to think that one of them must have been this girl's mother.

"How old are you," she asked Merianne quietly.

"Twelve, your Grace."

"I thank you, Lady Merianne for being willing to wed. But I will not be able to choose you as well," she gave the girl a reassuring smile as she broke out in tears and rushed away, towards the woman who was worried.

Nysa watched them embrace before looking back at the prospective brides. She was going to need some assistance with choosing a bride, she could see that now. Edmure would want a pretty bride - that's for sure. But she was loath to leave Lady Catelyn's home in the hands of an incapable woman - not someone as wanton as Amerie or as young as Merianne. Now, she felt extremely foolish. She shouldn't be choosing someone else's bride. Taking another glance at Lord Frey, she knew that she had to though. Her life and the life of her unborn child depended upon it.

"Ser Perwyn," Nysa spoke loudly. Perwyn came to stand closer and looked down at her. "Olyvar has often spoke about your sister. He has spoken of her many talents, that she loves to sing and draw."

"She does, your Grace," he nodded.

"Could you," she nodded towards his sisters and nieces.

Perwyn gestured with his hand as the sister in question stepped forward. She was comely. Her hair seemed to be tangled as it sat in a messy bun upon her head. Nysa was sure that if she had tended to it that it would flow beautifully. She was thin. Her eyes were big and wide. There seemed to be sadness behind them. All other thoughts aside, Nysa had to admit that the girl was pretty.

"And what is your name?"

"Roslin, your Grace," her voice was timid.

"Ser Perwyn, you have spent some time with Lord Edmure," Nysa began.

Perwyn nodded. "Yes, and I cannot picture a better man to wed my dear sister."

"And what of Riverrun," she added. "Would its castle benefit?"

Perwyn smiled reassuringly at Nysa before looking back at his sister. "Roslin is also very kind. Lady Catelyn Stark is actually a heroine of sorts for her. I'm sure the two would get along amiably. She wouldn't change much but she'd add beautiful touches to the House."

"And what about you, Lady Roslin," Nysa turned to her. "Would Lord Edmure and Riverrun be acceptable to you?"

"I would never deny my King or Queen," she curtsied very low - almost pleading like.

Nysa put out her hand and gestured for her to stand up. "There's no need for that. If your desire isn't Riverrun, then you can inform me now. The Lords are not the ones making the decision, you are," Nysa nodded to her.

Roslin was quiet for a moment before glancing up at Perwyn. He gave her another reassuring nod which made Roslin smile. "I," she bit her bottom lip, "I accept, my Queen."

"Excellent," Nysa walked past Perwyn and embraced Roslin. "You will make a wonderful Lady for Riverrun and Lord Edmure." She pulled back to see Roslin's shock but quickly dismissed it. "We must spend some time together," she insisted.

"Of course, your Grace."

Nysa pushed back some of Roslin's fallen strands of hair and smiled. "Do you love to sew?" Roslin nodded happily. "I never really took a liking to it, but I wouldn't mind sitting with you during this past time while we discuss certain matters."

Confusion showed on the young woman's face.

"House Tully has always served its King - on the Iron Throne or in the North - as Lord Paramount of the Trident," Nysa stated. "I love to hear the concerns of not only the Lords of the Riverlands but also their Ladies. It's important to the future of a Kingdom."

Roslin dropped into another curtsy before going to stand at Perwyn's side.

She barely had time to acknowledge her choice when Lord Frey urged her to continue. "I must ask Roslin, how old are you?"

"Nineteen, your grace."

"Is there a sister a year or two younger than you?"

Roslin looked up and nodded at another young woman, but quickly turned away. Ser Perwyn directed Nysa towards the girl.

She remembered seeing this girl earlier. She had been holding Shirei's hand, staring Nysa in the eyes, daring her to choose their youngest sister. When Merianne and Alyx had come back, she had taken their hands as well. It was obvious that she was comforting the younger girls. Admittedly, Nysa was drawn towards people who showed kindness, protectiveness and fellow-feeling. These younger girls must have been scared and frightened. And yet this sister had stood by their side, bravely looking at their Queen.

"And what is your name, my Lady?"

"Arwyn, your Grace."

"She is the daughter of Lady Annara Farring," Olyvar stated.

Nysa wracked her brain for House Farring and couldn't determine where this girl's mother would have come from or any outstanding features. "She was the third-born daughter of her father," Arwyn answered with her head held high. "Lord Farring is a noble House of landed knights in the Crownlands."

Nysa smiled and nodded. "Now that you mention is, I recall the House. Your grandfather serves Stannis Baratheon, does he not?" Arwyn allowed her eyes to look Nysa up and down. She either wasn't going to answer or was preparing a good argument. Nysa liked her already. "How old are you, Lady Arwyn?"

"Seven and ten, your Grace."

"Would you oppose to..."

"They are more than willing the lot of them," Lord Walder barked.

"I would rather have brides who are willing to marry then those who have done so by your encouraging," Nysa told him before turning back to Arwyn.

"I can answer for myself," Arwyn replied hotly. Perwyn pressed his lips tightly and made to step forward but Nysa placed her hand on his arm to halt him. "I've heard many things about you, my Queen." Nysa smiled at her bluntness. She didn't appear to be rude or disrespectful - simply curious and headstrong. "How you helped my older brothers, tended to them in Harrenhal, how you saved Stevron's life," she smiled and nodded. "You look to be like an honest individual."

"I try to be."

"How do you plan on choosing a husband for me - one that I've never met and one who will never meet me? What exactly is your method for matching me to a particular Lord?"

Nysa understood that Arwyn was attempting to 'size' her up in a way, judging silently her Queen before her. "Well, by simply asking you what is it that you want, Lady Arwyn. Is there anything you look forward to in a husband?"

"A good cock is fine," someone shouted from the back as several of the Frey men laughed.

"What I meant is," Nysa stepped forward, ignoring them, and took Arwyn's hands in her own. "Would you want someone who is in the North? Would you like to stay here in the Riverlands? Or perhaps marry a knight who is sworn to the King," Nysa offered. "I know that Lady Sansa would often dream of marrying a knight," she said in a whispered tone. "I dreamt of marrying a Lord who was a fierce fighter but had a gentle voice," she leaned further in, "one that would tell stories to our children before they went to bed." Arwyn blushed as did a few around her. "Tell me, what do you dream of?"

One her face displayed the answer but Arwyn quickly shook her head and looked down towards the ground - a trait she noticed that majority of the young Frey women did. "There isn't much time to have dreams if you are a Frey."

"On the contrary," Nysa stood tall. "You seem like a Lady who knows what she wants. So, tell me."

"Father has always said that not all of us would be fortunate enough to marry out of the Twins," Arwyn said softly, casting her eyes towards Lord Walder. Nysa squeezed her hands to bring Arwyn's gaze back to her. "I will go wherever it is you desire, as long as I am away from here, your Grace. That is what I have dreamed," she answered, "of being away from here, to see something other than these walls. I don't expect love, but I will demand respect," she added, confident and sure of her desires.

Nysa nodded and then released her hands, taking a step back. "I have chosen the Lady Arwyn," she announced.

"The Lord," Lord Frey questioned.

"Ser Patrek Mallister is looking for a wife."

Lord Walder leaned forward and eyed her evenly. "The heir to Seagard," he said as a few people around them murmured and whispered. "Impossible."

"He informed me himself," Nysa replied looking at Arwyn. "He said he'd want a wife with a strong mind and your daughter here has a sense of confidence and bravery that I'm sure she'll need to become the future Lady of Seagard and wife to Ser Patrek. I have confidence in her abilities and," she smiled at Arwyn as the girl lifted her head higher, "it appears that she has confidence in her abilities as well."

"Argh," Lord Walder groaned. "You call it confidence, I call it stubbornness. Her mother was just as stubborn. Couldn't keep her mouth shut, always wanting to state her opinions. I don't need opinions in the bed and I'm sure Ser Patrek will agree."

"Well, I am more than sure that he'll like Lady Arwyn's personality all the same."

"Good. Now the other three," Lord Walder shouted.

She was loath to be choosing the brides for the Lords. She had decided who Lady Arwyn would marry, but to force the others into such an arrangement. In her letter to Robb, she'd demand something once she spoke more to the girls.

"The other three," Lord Walder urged Nysa to continue.

Good Gods, she wished she had brothers to... Nysa paused and thought about it. Taking her time, she finally decided on who she was choosing as the groom. He would not argue with her - though she knew he'd be upset about it. If this girl was going North, she'd have to be strong - both in mind and body.

"If my memory serves me correctly, you married a Lady Crakehall," Nysa questioned.

"That is right," Walder nodded. "But what does..."

"The Crakehalls are a great House in the Westerlands," Nysa answered. "I've seen the physicality of House Crakehall, their knights are mighty. In the North, one needs to be mighty. Do you have a granddaughter from Lady Crakehall?"

Lord Walder moved his hands and the girls seemed to shuffle around. It appeared the numbers were cut in half then. Nysa's eyes widened for a moment before she calmed herself. She spotted a lot who looked young. Despite being young they were depressed looking. Nysa was sure that some of them, if not all, felt the same as Arwyn. They did not want to live behind these walls much longer. She remembered the stories that were told to her from Jayne.

She approached a girl whose hair was not in a messy arrangement upon her head. Instead it flowed to her side, looking as though it had not been cared for in a while. She remembered that this girl was young but had flowered and thus Lord Frey had called her back. Before she could feel pity for the girl, Lord Walder chuckled.

"All your daughters will have been wed if the Queen chooses her, Merrett," Lord Walder nodded to his son.

"Three daughters married," the man she assumed was Merrett Frey lifted his cup as the wine splashed out of it.

"She has not given her answer," Nysa reminded them.

"But she'll agree, right girl," Lord Walder affirmed as the girl gave a small nod.

"What is your name," Nysa asked her.

"Marissa, your Grace."

"And what do you dream of, Marissa?"

She thought about it for a moment before looking up. Her lips moved upwards before she looked back down again. Nysa placed a hand under her chin, causing Marissa to face her again.

"Tell me," Nysa requested gently.

"I would not be against going to the North with you, your Grace. I," she paused and her whole face seemed to light up then. "I do not desire to run a large House. My mother grew up in Castle Darry," she looked at Nysa with appreciation. "She said it was rather large for her Aunt to take care of. I do not know if I could do the same."

"Well," Nysa smiled, "then my earlier thought has proved well indeed."

A grandmother from House Crakehall and a mother from House Darry - more than likely a relative from young Lord Lyman. Nysa took a step back and looked towards Lord Walder.

"I will take Lady Marissa as the third bride. She is to become my sister," she looked at Marissa as a few people gasped and murmured around them. "House Cassel is small," she looked back at Lord Frey. "I understand you may not particularly like that. But my brother is all that is left. With the death of our Uncle, Ser Rodrik, he left only his daughter Beth. The King has talked about giving my brother a lordship once we return North - perhaps Greenhall, which is what I was to be given as a bride. And if that idea still haunts you, may I remind you that as the Queen's sister by law, she'll hold some power in the North."

"A wife to a small House," Lord Walder snarled.

"If it pleases you, I will also take Alyx, Merianne and Shirei with me," she nodded towards the three girls. She would reveal later that Bran and Rickon were still alive and that perhaps one of them would be chosen to become a Stark princess. "They are still young, but perhaps in a couple years, I can find a suitable match for them. That could count for the fourth marriage that you desire when in truth, I am giving you two more."

"You'd take them to the North?"

"I know they will not wed anyone now, but the North will need families - will need to rebuild after this war. As Queen, I'll ensure they're properly looked after before they wed. As for now they can help to care for the young prince or princess that is to come," Nysa placed her hand on her stomach. "And I'm sure Marissa would need company on the road. There are far and few ladies in between."

"So be it," Walder agreed.

Nysa paused and thought of another thought - so quickly, that she knew this would top the deal. "As for my fifth marriage, I will like to arrange for the son of Ser Danwell to wed a young woman in my charge."

"Oh?"

"We cannot let all the girls have their fun. And I think you would like this alliance," Nysa smiled.

"Bring forth Oswell," Walder called for him as Nysa saw a handsome but shy young man step forward. "This is Oswell Frey, the only son of Danwell and Wynafrei."

Nysa nodded to the young man. "Your father is a very brave knight. I saw fight him in King's Landing at the Hand's Tourney. He's alive and well," she smiled, "still fighting for his King. I was told that your mother is sister to Lady Shella Whent," she acknowledged the Lady beside him, "and with her having no living children, it would be best if Harrenhal stayed in the family. So, as a wedding gift, I thought you - as a relation to Lady Whent - that you would like to take it."

There were further gasps and murmurs that were louder than proclaiming Marissa as her sister.

"Could you really do that, my Queen," Lord Walder asked.

"I'm sure once the war is over that my husband would agree to it. Its castle is not of the North but since Princess Arya and I were the ones to take it, I don't see why not. It belongs to me and her more than anyone else, I would think," she stated stubbornly. "House Frey of Harrenhal," she looked towards Lord Walder and smiled gently. "It does have a nice sound to it. And Ser Danwell has served the King and I well. He is a most loyal and trustworthy knight. Loyalty should be rewarded. His only living son, should be rewarded."

"And the bride," Lord Frey looked intrigued.

"Lady Jeyne Westerling," Nysa answered quickly as Olyvar choked a bit. "She is desirous of a husband, don't you think Olyvar," she looked at him as he smiled and shook his head. "She is very pretty as well," Nysa turned to spot Oswell in the front. "She loves to smile and laugh." Olyvar coughed again and turned around to look at something other than Nysa. "If Lady Jeyne does not desire to become the Lady of Harrenhal, then I will look for another suitable bride for Oswell."

"Another bride," Lord Frey commented.

"I would like Lady Jeyne to have her say in the matter," Nysa responded. She had to congratulate herself on choosing that bride. Jeyne wanted her father released - and this would prove House Westerling's loyalty to the King and to the Queen. At first, she felt upset with having to treat another lady that way. But she remembered Jeyne's smiles being directed towards Robb. Nysa lifted her chin and smiled. "Harrenhal is the gift to Oswell, whomever he shall wed."

"House Frey of Harrenhal, it is," Lord Walder lifted his cup as the hall cheered.

* * *

"She's where," Robb yelled angrily.

Catelyn could see the veins in his neck beginning to show. He was beyond livid. Smalljon Umber shrunk back at seeing his King's fury. Next to him, Grey Wind growled and licked his snarling jaw in anticipation of attack. There was a thick air of hatred, disappointment, angry and grief that filled the room.

Ser Stevron worried that she would be harmed and asked to ride there immediately.

Harrion Karstark vowed that he'd storm the Twins if Lord Frey didn't release her.

Jory prayed to the Gods that she was alright and wondered what idiot put such foolish nonsense into her head.

Jayne was in tears as Robb had begun to question her, if she had been the one to give the idea to the Queen. "She didn't tell me of anything," Jayne Bracken cried. "I would have told her to stay back, my King. I would never have sent her there, not by herself."

Next, Ser Merlon Crakehall and his guards were questioned as to their whereabouts. Had one of them thought to kidnap her and have Lord Frey imprison her at the Twins? Then, Robb had Ser Raynald Westerling and his sister, Jeyne come in. No one had dared thought to suggest such an action.

"I want her brought back," Robb demanded. "You tell Lord Frey that if she is not here by sunset on this day, I will bring all of the fury of the North and Riverlands upon his home!"

"There is a possibility that she could be safe," Greatjon said.

"Your wife is smart," Lord Glover added. "I'm sure she..."

"If she were smart, she wouldn't be at the Twins now, would she," Robb growled and took out his sword as he begun to beat one of the chairs to pieces.

"Leave us," Ser Brynden announced hotly as Robb grunted and cursed in anger.

They'd allow Robb to get his frustration out but once he had his sensible thoughts back, they'd work on a way to get Nysa back. All the while, everyone's thoughts were on that one important question - what had compelled her to do something entirely foolish?

* * *

Nysa had seen the way other women in the Twins fight for her attention. She sighed audibly when she noted that several of them were named Walda in the hopes of having Lord Frey's blessing. Because with so much of them, he hardly ever remembered their names if it was something else - Roslin had told her. She spent the first two days primarily with Roslin, Arwyn and Marissa - getting to know them, their likes and dislikes. And of course, discussing their future husbands.

She would break her fast with her table surrounded by all the Ladies in the Twins - married and unwed. And there was always a young girl found in her lap, pointing out unimportant things to the Queen or smiling anxiously as the Queen brushed and braided their hair. To her shock - and horror - many of them had never left the Twins. And from the stories she heard from Jayne - some of the Frey men would visit the younger women's beds. She was certain she knew which Freys those were - the ones with leering suspicious eyes.

As always though, Ser Perwyn, Ser Jared - along with a couple other guards - had been there to protect her.

On the third day of her visit here, she decided to do some 'cleaning'. Nysa walked through the halls and asked where the paintings had been put. The place looked rather plain. She insisted they all be put back up. As the sun was high in the sky, Nysa walked into the gathering hall and pulled back the curtains and drapes.

"What is going on," Lord Frey coughed hysterically.

"It's no wonder your ill, you're not letting any sunshine into this place," Nysa hurried to his side and attempted to treat him like a toddler. He enjoyed the attention and on one occasion had his wandering hand slapped away from Nysa's backside. "Come, come, Lord Frey," she smiled politely. "I thought we could open the drapes and let some light into the castle. Don't you think it's beautiful Lady Joyeuse?" She looked up at his wife.

The young woman went to answer but was silenced when Lord Frey began to speak. "I don't want to hear what she thinks."

"Well, I do," Nysa turned around and smiled up at the current Lady Frey. "And a happier wife makes for a happier life, Lord Frey."

"Women," he muttered, trying to get up from his chair. Nysa helped him and hooked her arm around his as they walked down from the high table and into the middle of the hall.

"I like the light," Lady Joyeuse replied.

"So, do I," Nysa nodded. "Besides, Lord Frey, there are to be four weddings here soon - two of which are kin to the King and Queen. We must open this place up. Present it as a proud and strong castle - the Twins," she replied as she noted that Lord Frey smiled a bit smugly. "I wager we could make this place rival that of any feast I've seen at King's Landing. What do you think, Lady Joyeuse? Will you show me the grounds around the castle?"

Nysa made sure that they hurried away. Lord Frey barely had any time to realize that the two women had left him standing there.

Ser Perwyn who had designated himself as Nysa's personal guard until King Robb came had chuckled slightly at seeing the bewildered expression on his father's face. That was until he turned back to the windows - sunlight dancing over the water and smiled. Nysa was changing something here. Perwyn didn't know what it was but there was a change.

* * *

Jory sighed and shook his head. Of all the hotheaded things Nysa could have done. Olyvar Frey had returned - but not with the Queen. This time, five hundred of the Frey soldiers had accompanied him. In the room sat Ser Arwood Frey and Ser Tytos Frey - two of Lord Frey's grandsons. Lord Frey allowed five hundred men to return and the other fifteen hundred men would as well - once the King agreed to the Queen's terms.

Jory was sure that the only one who probably would agree to the marriage might be him.

He looked over to Ser Patrek and Edmure Tully who both remained quiet on the matter.

"At least you know the name of your brides," the King said. "I was not given such a luxury."

Edmure Tully stood up. "Yes, but at the very least I should be offered the same choice you had," he looked at Robb. "I'm not going to let that old ferret choose my bride."

"It's a good thing then that it is the Queen who chose your bride," Catelyn turned in her chair towards him. "And I'm sure my brother meant no disrespect to one of his own bannermen."

"Roslin was hand-picked - as were the others," Ser Arwood assured, "by the Queen."

"I don't care that she picked the bride herself. I want to choose my own wife! My answer is 'no' and it will continue to be. And in time, he'll bring me a bride of my own choosing."

"You'll risk war and our freedom for chance at a prettier wife," Catelyn censured her brother.

"Not to mention, our Queen's safety," the Blackfish added.

"How is she," Robb turned to look at the two Frey knights.

"When we departed, she had been spending her days with the intended brides - getting to know them," Ser Arwood answered. "I would like to say that she is well looked after. There are a few of my cousins and Uncles who guard her, my King."

Robb nodded before glancing at the table. "Overall, she is well?"

The Frey moved his head up and down in response before offering a kind smile. "But you do know the implication of her being held there, your Grace?"

"Of course, I do," he replied. "Your father is a proud man and I'm glad that he's offered us this opportunity to make amends," he nodded to Ser Arwood and Ser Tytos. "As long as the Queen is safe, we'll fulfill our side of the arrangement."

"You mean my side," Edmure questioned. "I'm the one who's getting the losing end of this bargain."

"You owe it to your Queen," Robb told him.

"Don't you remember your heroic engagement where you promised to make amends to the Queen," Ser Brynden leaned forward. "Here is your chance," he laid the letter down.

"And what about the two of you," Catelyn asked, looking at Ser Patrek and Jory Cassel.

"I trust my Queen," Jory nodded. "Is it true, what my sister says," he turned towards the Frey knights, "my bride is the granddaughter of a Crakehall and her mother is from House Darry?"

Ser Tytos nodded in response. "Two strong Houses. The Queen said that she would need to be strong if she went North. And that Ser Patrek would desire his wife to be of strong-mind," he gestured towards Ser Patrek. "Lady Arwyn is brave and doesn't put up with foolishness of any kind."

"You spoke to the Queen about finding a wife," Edmure turned to him. "I didn't even know you were looking."

"I said it in passing," Ser Patrek smiled. "I'm surprised that she took note of that. But it is true," he looked at Ser Tytos. "My wife would need a strong mind to put up with me."

"Nysa knows that I need to win this war, we all do, in order to have peace," Robb looked at Edmure. "If we don't do this, and do this now, we're lost - all of us," he clarified.

"The Lannisters came through the Riverlands swiftly," Ser Brynden added. "You are their liege Lord," he reminded his nephew. "You need to do what is right to protect them."

Edmure thought on it and sighed. "Write back to our Queen, tell her I accept."

Jory looked away and caught Lady Catelyn's eyes, a small ounce of pride in them at the mention of how Nysa had met with Lord Frey, how she had negotiated the terms for peace, how she had chosen the brides for Edmure, Patrek and himself. She thought more so than just their pretty face. It was a dangerous and foolish venture, but also diplomatic and brave - something she was born to do.

* * *

"Tell me more about King's Landing, my Queen," the young Ryella Frey bounced up and down, her little hands holding onto Nysa's dress as she sat down with the other Ladies while they did their sewing.

Her mother - who was also with child - chastised her the first time she had spoken up at dinner with their Queen. But Nysa welcomed her questions, welcomed every little question that any child would ask her. They asked her about the North, about House Stark, about the King's direwolf they heard so much of. They asked about her travels through the Crownlands and hiding with men from the Night's Watch.

And as much as they loved to hear about her tales, she showed interest in theirs. She spoke to women who had been wed to Lord Frey's sons - asking about the Houses they came from. When mentioned that she had seen a certain knight or guard from their House - they'd smile in appreciation. Their smiles widened when Nysa could remember their words and sigil. Ser Perwyn noted that she took a personal interest in them. None of them were just another member belonging to House Frey - not to the Queen.

"Ser Perwyn asked me for a kiss before his joust," Nysa whispered loudly causing a few of the women to blush and giggle.

"She declined," Perwyn quickly spoke up, smiling at the memory and realizing that this tale of King's Landing was about the Hand's tourney.

"If I remember correctly I did place a kiss on your cheek, Ser Perwyn," she turned to him, looking scandalized.

"A knight will win the battle when a Lady bestows him with a real kiss," he replied, sending a wink her way.

"However true that may be, I refused to give him a real kiss. If I did, he would not be walking now," she said teasingly as they continued to giggle. "My brother Jory," she cast her eye at Marissa, "would have seen and at that moment he had his lance at hand. I think he'd run Ser Perwyn through with it, don't you think?"

Perwyn smiled as he heard their laughter. He had not heard much of it here at the Twins in such a long time. But here they were - this group of women, smiling, happy and enjoying themselves.

"Your brother participated in the tourney," Merianne asked, casting a glance at Marissa.

"He did," Nysa smiled at Marissa before turning her teasing look towards Perwyn. "He advanced through his matches. And in one of those matches, he unhorsed Ser Perwyn."

"A good thing then that I did not get a kiss," Ser Perwyn smiled as the other ladies giggled.

"I heard from my husband that all the men advanced quite well," one of the Ladies began. "If your brother faced Ser Perwyn, does that mean he won?"

"He lost in the semi-final to the Mountain."

"Wow Marissa, your betrothed fights as well as any knight," Perwyn heard one of the woman proclaim as Marissa's cheeked reddened more.

"But you got the Mountain in the end, right," another little Frey girl bounced in front of the Queen.

"My brother fought him first," Nysa answered. "So, I'm afraid that I owe that victory to him," she smiled.

"Was Ser Patrek there at the tourney," Arwyn questioned.

"He was," Nysa answered, "his father entered the joust and is a decent fighter. You'd have to be to defend the mainland against those sneaky Ironborn," she smiled and reached out to tickle one of the young girls in front of her who squealed and ran behind their mother's dress. "I don't remember Ser Patrek participating. Though, he could have been in the archery contest. I should have dearly loved to watch that."

"You enjoy archery," one of the Frey women asked. Nysa had seen her around, but she hadn't enjoyed sewing and would often protest in accompanying the ladies. "My name is Tyta, your Grace," she stood and curtsied. She was rather tall and had a slim but muscular build. Nysa thought of Lady Dacey Mormont then. "I don't care much for sewing but I do love archery."

"As do I," Nysa smiled. "Perhaps you could show me the yard when there is time, my Lady?"

"That's out of the question," Lady Leonella stated.

"Why not?"

"Because my Lord husband wouldn't allow any of his daughters or granddaughters into the yard," Lady Joyeuse answered.

"It's no place for a woman to be," Lady Beth - Alyx's mother - replied as they all quieted down.

Nysa snorted and went to stand.

"My Queen," Perwyn tried to stop her, but she continued through the room. "My Queen, where do you think you're going," he questioned.

"To practice archery with Lady Tyta," Nysa gestured for her to stand.

"This I have to see," Arwyn stated as a few of them got up from their seats - sewing abandoned and followed their Queen down to the yard where several of their brothers, cousins and various male guards looked about in confusion at seeing the women entering.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Walking the grounds with Lord Walder Frey was a tense situation indeed. Lady Joyeuse walked directly behind them as Nysa was urged to take Lord Frey's arm. She had insisted that the Lord and Lady should walk together and that she would walk behind them, instead Lord Frey had said that wasn't to be so. Slowly, Nysa was learning that things were a give and take with him. One moment she could flatter her way out of anything, another moment, she was being shut down.

"Am I correct in hearing there is another delay in the weddings," Lord Frey questioned.

Nysa had written to House Manderly to send some of her dresses down. She shared those gowns with Marissa first. After all, Marissa was going North. She would be in need of warm dresses. Not to mention, she'd be in desperate need of a wedding dress as well. And Nysa knew that Wynafryd had just the dress in mind. It was something Nysa had received from her Lord Uncle three name-days before. It was too soft and pretty to be in the North. Marissa could use it for her wedding. And with her dark blonde hair - the deep pink with white designs would be lovely for her. She was currently in there with some of the Frey girls, pouring gleefully over the gowns - especially the wedding gown.

The weddings weren't going to be rushed, at least that's what Nysa had requested. In a way, she knew that Robb was not happy - he had written her so. The Lords had agreed with him. And if Robb had his way, he would have marched there immediately - damn the wedding dress, he had wrote her. But Nysa had insisted that certain things would happen for this wedding to take place. She wanted the brides to feel important, special. So, she wrote to the respective people - House Manderly being one of them - and solicited help in preparing the gowns, the wine, the food - everything.

"Yes, my Lord," Nysa answered. "I want everything to be perfect for your daughters, your grandchildren and of course, my brother."

"Unfortunately, for you my Queen, that means you have delayed your departure," he chuckled.

"It means that I get to keep company with your delightful daughters and granddaughters." Lord Frey snorted. "I'm finding that I quite enjoy myself spending time with your kin and your household," Nysa smiled and patted his arm.

Lord Frey muttered something that she didn't quite catch but it caused Lady Joyeuse to giggle so it must have been something positive. She regarded the gardens and touched a few of the flowers that were there. The Lady had certainly changed a lot, Nysa had not only taken notice, but heard about it from others in the Twins. As if noticing that Nysa's attention was no longer on him, Lord Frey spoke up.

"I do not like you giving my daughters false hope. It is one thing to charm me, it's quite another to break my their hearts," Lord Frey commented.

"How am I giving them false hope, my Lord?"

"My Queen, we can stop with the theatrics," he paused in their walk and gestured for them to sit at a nearby bench. Nysa helped him to sit down first before she smoothed out her gown and took the seat next to him. "You paint these lovely pictures for them, as though they will have these loving husbands and beautiful homes."

"Riverrun and Seagard _are_ beautiful castles. And Greenhall - though it is an abandoned castle - has a delightful village outlying it. It is not far from Winterfell," Nysa remarked. "It has wonderful fields and great potential."

"And you know this, how?"

Nysa smiled at Lord Frey. "Because it was to be mine," she answered. "There are several small castles in the North, smaller than Twins of course. But they have their own unique charm. Lord Stark was planning to bestow Greenhall upon me as a wedding gift. I was betrothed to one of Lord Karstark's sons."

Lord Frey remained quiet for a while as he watched the smile on the young Queen's face disappear. "Where is he?"

"He died at the hands of the Kingslayer."

A grunt left Lord Frey's lips before he began to cough. Nysa patted his back lightly as Lady Joyeuse came by with a cloth to assist. "And so you wed the King," he cleared his throat and gestured for a servant to bring him some water.

"Yes," Nysa sighed, "and now I am here, hoping to make amends for our actions, for my actions. I do apologize, Lord Frey, to you and your daughters. It was a dishonorable thing to have done."

"We all make mistakes," Lord Frey said before turning away from the young Queen. "Let us hope that it should never cost you."

A strange feeling came over Nysa then at Lord Frey's statement but she brushed it off. Something was stirring inside of her - and it wasn't the child she carried in her womb. It was like the fire - the gift she had - was being stoked and fueled. She didn't like it. And every time she experienced a strange emotion, that fire started to burn. She calmed herself the best she could.

"Despite being wed to a King, our wedding was far from grand," Nysa tried to get the conversation back on track. "I want your daughters to have something wonderful, something to rival a wedding at Kings Landing."

"The gowns that you have imported are good enough," he waved his hand.

"I am also asking that they send some wine and pork and other delicacies."

"And where is this coming from," Lord Frey lifted an eyebrow at her.

Nysa smiled. "My Lord Uncle."

"I thought that your Uncle was murdered by the Ironborn?"

She nodded solemnly before shifting to look out at the garden. "My father's brother, yes. But the Uncle I speak of is my mother's brother."

"I had heard that your mother is from the South," he narrowed his eyes pointedly at her.

"She is, my Lord."

"And you've never met your Lord Uncle?"

Nysa shook her head.

"How do you know that he'll aid you in this endeavor?"

"I'm not certain, to be honest. I'm hoping that he will. My brother - and others from the North - believe that my mother is the only kin he had left before she died. And since he has no other family to inherit, he enjoys doting on his only living relation," Nysa replied the best that she could. "Anything beyond that, I couldn't tell you."

"Gracious of your Uncle to assist you," Lord Frey noted. "But we did not need wine or pork or beef. We have plenty of it here."

"I know you do, but I did not want you to empty your storehouses, Lord Frey," Nysa turned back towards him and smiled. "Consider this our way of making amends," she nodded. "Truly, I am deeply mortified that we have dishonored you and your House. Let me plan this for your daughters and your grandchildren. You shouldn't have to worry about a thing."

Lord Frey thought about it for a moment before he nodded.

"As for filling them with false hope, I apologize if I am approaching the matter as that," Nysa continued. "I only want to show them that they are valued. As mentioned before, I enjoy spending time with them. I meant no harm. I merely want to show them that they are important - not just for creating alliances, but they are important to me, as their Queen."

Lord Frey went to stand and Nysa did the same. "I'll have my wife escort me back, my Queen. Thank you for your time."

"Of course, my Lord," Nysa curtsied and watched as the Lord and Lady of the Crossing departed. She truly hoped that Lord Frey would see that she wanted to make things right, wanted to make his daughters happy. She attempted not to dwell on the matter once more as she glanced down at her hands and felt them burning.

* * *

"What is that, Lady Stark," Jory gestured to the parchment.

"A letter to Prince Doran," she replied as rolled it up. "Nysa is requesting some wine and gold for the weddings that are taking place."

"Has she been told yet?"

"About her kin," Lady Catelyn looked up at him, "or about who she is?"

"Either one," Jory answered.

"I haven't told her, yet. I want to wait until we get back home, that way we can discuss things with Jon, also."

"You know who his mother is," he pointed out.

Catelyn looked Jory over. "I do," she nodded.

Jory had been sorely tempted on two occasions to inform Robb Stark that his wife was a Targaryen Princess. He knew that Nysa would certainly be angry with him when she discovered that he had found out and neglected to inform her of her kin.

"It will take some time to send the wine and gold to the Twins," Jory noted, going back to the previous topic of conversation.

"Aye, it would," she smiled. "Robb is not too pleased with postponing the wedding date."

"I do not particularly like it, either," Jory confessed. "However, knowing her, she probably feels that if she makes this wedding something magnificent that it would earn Lord Frey's forgiveness. And if that be the case, she would insist that they wait for those commodities before engaging in a wedding," Jory stated.

He could picture her now, standing in the middle of the hall demanding that Lord Frey insist upon creating a grand spectacle - no doubt that was something she would flatter him with. For the past moon he had been wondering how she had managed to tempt Lord Frey into this arrangement. Wyl and Cayn had laughed at him before responding, stating that she probably used the same tactic she used on him and Ser Rodrik - compliments and an innocent smile, perhaps a little pouting as well.

"Do you think he'll listen to her, Jory," Lady Catelyn asked.

"I've seen her talk her way out of many things, my Lady," Jory replied with a smile. "Waylyn was telling a story of when she went on a hunting trip with Eddard and Harrion Karstark - dressed as a boy. When she returned, Lady Karstark waited on the steps for her - upset and beside herself," he added. "Nysa claimed that the boys dragged her along with them. She got out of it," he chuckled as Lady Catelyn shook her head, "but the Karstark boys got punished."

"That girl," Lady Catelyn smiled before turning to Jory with a serious expression. "Are you sure, Jory? Are you certain about wedding a Frey?"

Jory thought about it for a small moment and then nodded. "I am. I know that Nysa wouldn't reserve the prettiest face for me. But she would look for someone suitable." Lady Catelyn hid a smile. "I know what they say about Lord Frey's daughters. I've heard the tales," he gestured towards the outside of Lady Catelyn's room. "But I know Nysa. She wouldn't have made the choice half-hearted. We've spoke about marriage - more than once. And though I've told her to seek love and respect from a man she desires to wed and that I would look for the same in a Lady, I understand how much she and the King need House Frey. Love may not come but I know that respect most certainly would," he finished, "because I have faith that she chose well for me."

* * *

Two of Lady Arwyn's younger brothers were going with her to Seagard. She had received permission from her betrothed in the last letter.

The first time Arwyn had received a letter, along with it came a small chest of gifts - shells, a bottle of sand and sea water, along with a necklace with Seagard's sigil - from Ser Patrek the day before. It had sent the ladies in commotion and excitement all over again. Arwyn had been ecstatic for the remainder of the day. She had asked Nysa if it would be proper to write back to her betrothed. Nysa said that he would most certainly expect it.

"Remember, strong mind," she pointed to Arwyn's temple as the two smiled. Arwyn had wrote two letters - one with requests for her two brothers to come, serve as squires to Ser Patrek, something that Lord Mallister would see. And the second letter was for Ser Patrek's eyes only - written as Arwyn blushed profusely.

Ser Patrek would certainly have his hands full with her.

* * *

Jeyne looked warily out of the window as her Uncle left her room. Her brother remained and waited until the door had closed behind them. She had failed to seduce the King. And because of her failed attempt, her mother had demanded that they return. Raynald had suggested against it - said that to ensure father's safety they would accept the betrothal to House Frey.

"It is the least we could do to pacify the Queen," Raynald said as their Uncle - their mother's brother - fumed.

"That bastard Queen doesn't deserve anything but a proper lashing! She would sell you, a high-born Lady," their Uncle pointed at her, "like you were some piece of cattle?"

"And you all would do the same," Raynald threw down their mother's letter. "It was mother's idea to use Jeyne as a pawn - whoring my sister out like she was some common brothel wench!"

The argument had gone back and forth for some time and Jeyne was certain that the guards outside had heard. She silently pushed away her tears and asked that her Uncle leave them.

"I'm tired," Jeyne admitted once she was sure the company consisted of her and Raynald. "I'm tired of being treated as though I have no say in the matter."

"If you wished to go home..."

She turned around to face her brother. "And have mother push me onto the Lannisters," she scoffed. "Father already tried that, Raynald," she shook her head and looked away. "And before that it was House Prester and House Sarsfield. Mother's schemes have gotten us nowhere. Another man - who doesn't want me."

"Sister," Raynald stepped forward as Jeyne's shoulders dropped and her eyes brimmed with tears.

"I did try," her bottom lip trembled. "I did."

"I know," he said as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to an embrace.

"She could have betrothed me to one of the older Freys - one who already had a wife," Jeyne sobbed. "She could have betrothed me to a little boy just to spite me! This is the price I am paying for attempting to seduce the Queen's husband. She would see me wed to some fat drunkard who mistreats his wife. She could have. I just know it! What do I do, Raynald? What do I do?"

"Sh," he patted his sister's head comfortingly. "You can always say 'no'. We haven't ridden for the Twins, yet."

Jeyne shook her head against her brother's chest. "No, Raynald. Don't you see that I have to?" She pushed back lightly and looked up at her brother. "I have to."

* * *

Nysa woke suddenly to the soft banging on her door. She hurried to grab her brother's dagger - wondering who it would be at her door in the dead of the night.

"My Queen! My Queen!"

"Queen," another squeal sounded.

She pulled the door open to see little Walda Frey and her sister Emberlei - scared expressions on their faces as they stared up at her. A sudden look of relief at seeing that the Queen was in one piece - both little girls flung themselves to her, Walda's arms reached for Nysa's waist, tightening around her. Emberlei's hands clung to Nysa's gown around her legs.

"What is going on, my little ladies," Nysa patted Walda on the head, ushering her to take a step back before she knelt to face the two concerned faces.

"Father said that there was a monster outside the Twins," Walda screamed in a panicked voice.

"Monster," Emberlei copied her sister, head little head bobbing up and down.

"There is no need to fear something outside of the Twins," Nysa embraced them both. "Your father and the rest of the guards here will protect you. They won't let anything get through the gates."

Walda shook her head and pushed back. "He said that they were going to feed you to it," she protested.

So, that's what this was about. Nysa looked up to see Lothar Frey along with a few others - Ser Aenys, Ser Whalen and Black Walder included - walking down the hall towards her. The two girls gripped onto her dress harder. For a moment, fear flickered through her chest. Were they really going to throw her out of the Twins? She thought the arrangements she made with their father would tamper down any feelings of resentment.

"I hear there is a monstrous creature outside," Nysa attempted to smile.

"There is," Black Walder smiled wickedly, "would you like to see it?"

"No," Walda and Emberlei held onto her skirts. "Don't go, my Queen!"

"Don't go," Emberlei repeated the sentiment.

Lothar Frey bent down towards them, ready to drag them away but Nysa put up her hand quickly. "As I said before, there is nothing out there that can get into the Twins," she assured the two girls. "What did I tell you earlier, my little Lady?"

Walda wiped her nose with her dress sleeve. "That my father and the others would protect us."

"Indeed, they will," she looked up at them as she noticed a couple of them shrink back at the praise. "Go with your father, back to your mother," she urged, turning back towards the two children, "go on. I will go outside with your Uncles and cousins."

"No," Walda hugged her again.

"I'll show you that there's nothing to be afraid of, little one," she rubbed Walda's back before pushing her gently off, "not when I have such brave knights as those who belong to House Frey," she smiled reassuringly at the little girl - glad that Ser Perwyn, Ser Jared, Ser Stevron's youngest son and two of his grandsons appeared then.

Immediately as the girls ventured down the hall towards their rooms, Ser Perwyn took Nysa by the arm and protectively stood in front of her.

"What is the meaning of this," he questioned them.

"There is a wolf outside," Ser Aenys narrowed his eyes at Nysa. "We thought the _Wolf Queen_ would like to make friends with the beast."

"If the wolf is outside, then there is no need to..."

Ser Aenys cut off Ser Perwyn's sentence with a wave of his hand. "The beast has attacked a couple of our men. We can't ride out without that thing, lunging out at us."

"It could be the King's direwolf," Ser Jared suggested.

"I've seen that wolf," Ser Aenys shouted. "This one is different."

Nysa suddenly remembered the conversation that she had with Robb, followed by the conversation that she and Robb had with Lady Catelyn. Lady Catelyn admitted that Summer had protected Bran while he was asleep. The direwolf attacked a man who was intent on assassinating him - also protecting Lady Catelyn. Robb stated that Bran had spoken through Grey Wind, that his father had told him of a connection, a bond that the Kings of Winter had with the direwolf. Perhaps that wasn't Robb's direwolf out there but that may have been another. _"You don't understand. If you stay, they'll have your head. Go and find Nymeria. Find your sister, stick together."_

"Let me see it."

"My Queen," Ser Perwyn turned around to face her, pushing her back towards her room. "Perhaps you should stay in your room, lock the door behind you and keep your sword at the ready," he suggested softly.

Nysa shook her head. "Thank you for your concern, Ser Perwyn. But I have a feeling that I know exactly what is outside," she replied. "And if my assumptions are true, then there is nothing to worry about."

* * *

Sansa sat next to Margery Tyrell as they discussed jewels and other finer things of her upcoming wedding. "Isn't this one pretty," Margery touched the jewel before turning to look for Sansa's reply.

She gave a half-hearted smile. "It is, my Lady."

Margery offered a kind smile before gesturing with one hand for her ladies-in-waiting to disperse. She linked arms with Sansa and guided the woman around the gardens of King's Landing. Margery could see through Sansa's false flattery.

"I am sorry about my brother's absence," Margery started. "However, you must understand that he is most displeased with the present circumstances."

"He is to wed a fine Lady. She is the Queen, after all."

"She is the Queen Mother," Margery corrected. "I have reminded you of that. And when I wed Joffrey. _I_ will be Queen. I had hoped to wed him sooner."

"Really," Sansa asked in surprise.

"If I had been Queen, you and my brother would have been wed. How I dread seeing two people who are so close to me torn apart," Margery waved her hand through the air. "Nevertheless, we must not think too little of our present circumstances."

Sansa almost began to sob, but Margery turned her so that they were facing one another.

"Do not fret about a thing, Sansa. Lord Tyrion is a fine man," she held Sansa's hands in hers. "If I were you, I would demand that Tyrion be made Lord of Casterly Rock."

"Lord of Casterly Rock?"

"Surely, you know that Lord Tywin couldn't name Ser Jamie as his heir," Margery pointed out, "not when he serves as a member of the Kingsguard. And even now, Ser Jamie is still missing. No one knows where he is or where he has gone to. He escaped imprisonment from your brother's camp. Surely, you know this."

"I..."

Sansa did in fact know it. Lord Tywin had informed her - in fact, he had been informing her quite frequently as to the circumstances surrounding her brother. She had learned that Nysa was with child and that her bastard brother Jon had left the Wall - forsaken his vow - and is defending the North from the Ironborn. After Lord Tywin left her - and after she had dismissed Shae - Sansa wept in joy. All was not lost. And despite the current announcement - that she was to wed Lord Tyrion instead of Loras Tyrell - Sansa found comfort in the fact that things were still going well for her - beyond the walls of Kings Landing.

"Forgive me," Margery's hold tightened on her hands. "I often get carried away when I see injustice done, especially to someone whom I was hoping to call 'sister'."

"If Lord Tyrion was to be Lord of Casterly Rock, then I would be Lady of Casterly Rock. Is that what you're saying?"

Margery laughed lightly before patting her friend's arm and continuing their journey through the gardens. "You make me smile, dear one. Did that thought only occur to you now?" Margery waved her hand again dismissively. "As I said earlier, we must not think too little of our present circumstances."

"Of course not," Sansa replied. "Do you think that Lord Tywin would truly consider..."

"It only makes sense."

Margery may have alluded to the thought but Sansa had never truly looked at it from that point of view. If she was Lady of Casterly Rock, then she could change things in the Westerlands, couldn't she?

"My requests are rarely heard by the King. And Lord Tywin is..."

"He is an intelligent man, but trust me with the correct persuasion he'll see that making Tyrion his heir would be most beneficial - especially if you are to bear a child for House Lannister," Margery reminded. "He'll need a Lannister heir to rule Casterly Rock. All you would need to do is put the idea to his head. And if you fear speaking up, I'm sure I could speak to Joffrey about it."

"Do you really think you could arrange that?"

"Of course. I will soon be Queen of all of Westeros," Margery commented before releasing Sansa's arm and walking towards the table where they would take tea with Lady Olenna.

Sansa stood there for a moment before smiling slightly. "Not all of Westeros," she whispered so softly, her voice was barely heard. Not of the North, she thought before walking over to the table to sit down next to Margery.

Nysa had done all that she could to keep Sansa safe. Ser Preston lost his life for it. Lord Tywin had said that he desired to know about Nysa. Sansa could construct something, some tale so as to get this request. The thought of becoming Lady of Casterly Rock, the wife to the Warden of the West - there was power behind that, she was certain. She could help Robb, couldn't she?

The main thing was that she would be leaving Kings Landing, surely that looked appealing?

And Cersei would be moved to Highgarden.

Joffrey would be here - no longer hurting her, threatening her.

She could learn to control the House, the castle, couldn't she? Sansa smiled as Lady Olenna came into the garden then, ordering the servants about. If Nysa - a bastard - could become Queen, then Sansa - a true-born daughter of a noble House and honorable Lord - could surely become a good Lady?

"Lady Olenna," Sansa greeted her.

"Ah, girls," Lady Olenna sat down and smiled at Sansa before patting her granddaughter's hand. "Now, what were you two speaking of?"

"Husbands," Sansa answered. "I should dearly love to know how you and your husband got along, Lady Olenna?"

The older woman smiled and pointed towards her cup as a servant hurried over to pour her some wine. "That is a wonderful tale."

* * *

Nysa gripped her cloak around her body and shivered at the cool air. She waited just outside of the gates. Ser Perwyn stood inside them - more like under them. Should anything happen to her, he'd be able to get to her quickly. And should one of his brothers decide to trap the young Queen outside, they'd have to kill him first. A sound to her left had her falling over. She caught herself just before she rolled over onto her stomach.

"Oh, my little one," she wrapped an arm protectively around her midsection. "We can't have you hurt now, can we," she smiled, rubbing her belly.

A soft growl made her body shiver. Whatever that 'monster' was, it was right by her. She contemplated shouting but something inside of her told her that it would be okay. She saw the paws of a wolf in front of her before glancing up at familiar eyes. Fear was the first thing to hit her as the body of a wolf towered overhead. As immediately as it came, it also left, and she was filled with relief.

"Lady," she smiled and was about to wrap her arms around the neck of the wolf when Lady fell to her side and whimpered.

Spasms shook the direwolf's body. Nysa had just been prepared to call Ser Perwyn when she heard a voice she had not heard in a long time.

"You're with child."

It couldn't be, she thought. Lady looked at her, her head tilting from side to side. It was almost like... No, it couldn't be. Nysa drew Lady's snout into her hands and stared at her eyes. "Bran?"

Lady's eyes softened and nudged Nysa's hand before coming to stand. Lady circled Nysa, smelling her, bumping her head and snout on Nysa's side and head.

"You're really alive, aren't you," Nysa questioned. "Robb said that you spoke to him through Grey Wind, but I never imagined that..."

"Jon is here."

Nysa cried softly and nodded. "We received word from Lady Glover. I had prayed that Jon would find you and Rickon, that you all would stay together in the North. I prayed," she wept happily.

Bran was alive. Jon was there with him. They had found one another - all was not lost. She couldn't wait to tell Lady Catelyn, to tell Arya that Jon was well, along with her other brothers. Her heart felt lighter, despite where she was currently staying as a 'guest'. Jon had found Bran and Rickon. She smiled and threw her arms around Lady's neck, burying her face in the soft fur and allowed herself to cry and laugh.

Lady licked Nysa's head as Nysa pulled away, laughing at her self. She lifted the edge of her cloak up and wiped her face. Another shocked sob escaped as she covered her mouth and shook her head in surprise at how good things were going at the moment. Bran and Rickon were alive! Jon had gone back to Winterfell. He had found them. They were home. Home, she thought.

"You can do so much more, Nysa."

Nysa sighed and remembered that she wasn't just a young maiden. She was a Queen. "I'm trying to, Bran," she closed her eyes. "I'm trying so hard to be a good Queen, but..."

"The fire," Bran's voice interrupted.

"I don't understand," Nysa shook her head.

"The fire can become so much more."

"Bran, how did you know about that," she asked in surprise, but Lady shook her head and it was gone.

The direwolf regarded her for a moment before licking Nysa's face, then quickly disappearing into the woods where she came. Nysa looked on as another wolfish form regarded her.

"Arya," she said softly as the second wolf's head bowed before following Lady.

* * *

Ser Jared nodded at his son as their party returned from Riverrun. The other five-hundred Frey guards who had left were to stay in service to their King - for now. Ser Tytos along with several of his cousins - Ser Arwood included - rode through the gates of the Twins, dismounting from their horses and nodding towards Lord Walder Frey who stood solemnly at the top of the steps to welcome them back.

"My Lord Grandfather," both Tytos and Arwood bowed their heads towards him.

He acknowledged them quickly and dismissed them just the same. Tytos followed his father, along with his cousins. He inquired after their grandfather's wife - who normally was always at Lord Walder's side. Ser Jared said that now she could be found with the group of women who surround the Queen. However, Lady Joyeuse is seeing to a recent delivery of wine that had come in from the Queen's family.

"How is the Queen," asked Tytos.

"She gets along very well," Ser Jared answered before emitting a soft smile, "with practically everyone. I will show you," he gestured for them to follow him.

They entered a part of the courtyard that Tytos and the others were certain had never been used before. Water was moving through one of the stones - like it had done in the past and there seemed to be little plants now in the ponds. Laughter echoed the halls and for a moment they all wondered what sort of madness they were venturing into.

"Ser Jared," the Queen smiled brightly at seeing them.

"Papa," two little figures squirmed from the Queen's lap and bolted pass Ser Jared, both throwing their arms around another Frey knight.

"Where were you?"

"Were you with the King?"

"Did you see his direwolf?"

"The Queen said we could pet him."

"The direwolf, not the King," one of them quickly corrected.

Nysa stood slowly and turned around. "You must be Ser Arwood," she curtsied. "I understand that you were with Ser Tytos," she looked towards Ser Jared's son who nodded at her, "delivering my terms to the King."

"Aye, my Queen," he nodded. "If my sons were bothering you..."

"It's no bother at all," Nysa assured him as one of them came back to hold her hand. "They are merely curious about King's Landing and all the knights that I've met. Like your daughter, Ryella, they enjoy a delightful story. She has a bright mind, Ser. I think she'll grow up to be as beautiful as her mother. You'll have your hands full, if you don't already with these two," she gently patted the head of the boy by her.

"Thank you, my Queen," Ser Arwood nodded again, a smile forming on his lips then.

"All of you are just in time," she looked over her shoulder, "the young men of the Twins seem to be telling me a tale."

"What of, your Grace," Ser Tytos stepped forward.

"The history of Harrenhal," Nysa smiled before leaning in slightly to whisper, "at least the bits and pieces they remember from their lessons. And considering that Oswell," she spoke at a normal tone this time and glanced at the young man sitting by her, "will become Lord of Harrenhal and carry on the Frey name in that castle, I thought it would be wonderful for him to enjoy the story-telling as well."

"I've heard about that," another man spoke up. "It was rather generous of you and King to compensate my grandfather well - especially after breaking a pact the King made with us."

Nysa attempted not to allow the comment to bring her down.

"My nephew, Rhaeger," Ser Jared gestured towards the short, plump man next to them.

"I have met your father, Ser Aenys," Nysa tried her best not to grimace at the memory of Ser Aenys welcoming her to Riverrun. Like father - like son, she thought. She bravely smiled and looked Rhaegar in the eyes, "he is a very clever man and an excellent fighter." Hoping to draw the attention back to the boys, she began, "there was a monster outside of the Twins less than a fortnight ago and he bravely ventured out to the beast."

"He did," one of the boys ran by her, eager to hear the story.

Glad that it worked, Nysa nodded her head as the young boy smiled.

"That's my grandfather!"

"Oh, is he," she smiled and looked at Rhaegar, who didn't want his son anyone near her. "Perhaps you can become a commanding soldier as he," she suggested which made the other young boys laugh. "What is so funny?"

"Jonos," the one they call 'Little' Walder laughed and pushed the young boy in the back, "become a soldier. He isn't strong enough, your Grace."

"He likes reading," another one of them pushed him.

"He wants to become a Maester!"

The boys began to laugh again.

Nysa watched as Jonos went to turn around, but she took his hand in her free one. "If becoming a Maester is what you wish, there is no shame in that," she stated with a smile. Moving back to sit down on the bench, she placed Androw back in her lap and moved the young Jonos to stand in front of her. "Maesters have important responsibilities."

"They do," one of the boys questioned.

"Aye they do," Nysa answered. "They do more than just assist in childbirth and treat illnesses. They teach life lessons that you will take with you, wherever you go. Did you know that the King didn't like his lessons with the Maester," she said as Jonos's interest piqued. "He most certainly did not. But I enjoyed it. I looked forward to my lessons and do you know why?"

Jonos and the others shook their heads.

"Because," she shifted Androw on her lap, tighter to her but gently pressing against her belly, "I learned from Maester Luwin at Winterfell and Maester Sylas at Karhold the words and sigil of each House in Westeros. They taught me the traits and characteristics of each House. For example, House Tully's words are..."

"I know, I know," one of them raised their hands. "It's 'Family, Duty, and Honor'."

"That's right, Walder," she said as the older boy puffed out his chest. "They are more than just your liege Lord. Riverrun's Lady is your kin, it's best to know their words," she added as they all nodded. "Knowing a lot about Riverrun and House Tully made me proud to know Lady Catelyn. She lives her life with those words in mind, she keeps them close. Other Houses speak of courage, compassion, determination and their steadfastness. Other Houses describe their fury, their roar," she said as they all continued to smile and hang on every word, "their fierceness, their tirelessness, their truth, their burning. That is something that I'll always remember Maester Luwin and Maester Sylas stressing," she looked at Jonos, giving him her undivided attention. "Each House is different, has their own strengths to offer their Realm and their Kingdom. Without Maesters to teach us, we would never know that House Bracken is never to be trampled, House Mallister is above the rest or that the House Frey of the Twins and Harrenhal," she smiled at Oswell, before glancing back at Jonos.

"No Limits," Jonos replied.

"I don't think I heard you," she smiled.

Jonos smiled and puffed out his chest, "No Limits," he shouted as did the others.

"There is no limit on what you can do and what you can become, Jonos Frey. If you wish to be a Maester, remember that they help the House in no other way possible. They teach little Lords and little Ladies. They help the current Lord and Lady with timeless advice and knowledge. You will help raise the next generation of Westeros. Without the Maesters, I wouldn't have known just how important every House is, such as House Frey. So, if you want to become a Maester, you have that hefty responsibility, too. Remember 'No Limits'," she repeated as he smiled and nodded.

"No Limits," Jonos said as the other boys began to pat him on the back and praise him for the journey ahead.

"Good," Nysa straightened out. "Now, where were we in our story," she asked as the boys began to scatter about.

"My Lords, knights," one of the Frey boys bowed, "my Queen." Nysa nodded her head at him. "I give to you my favorite Harrenhal story - the death of the Mountain," the little boy made his voice shake as Nysa, Oswell and the others present began to clap.

* * *

"What would Arya be doing with a letter," Lady Catelyn questioned as she took the letter from Ser Brynden before handing it to Robb. "I can barely understand this," she shook her head before looking up at Arya - standing in the middle of the room with a thoughtful expression.

Robb read the letter.

 _You sent me away._  
 _I understood what forced you._  
 _Remember the crossing,_  
 _the saving of two._

"What does this mean," Robb held that up for his sister.

Arya fidgeted before looking around the room. "I need everyone to leave," she stated plainly.

"Arya," Lady Catelyn began to censure her but Robb shook his head.

He nodded towards a few of his Lords who were gathered there. When they had received a raven from the Twins with Nysa's handwriting, Robb decided to call together Edmure, Ser Brynden and a few others to consult about what was to be done. Instead Ser Brynden had shocked everyone when he said the letter was to Princess Arya. There remained in the room, Lady Catelyn, Robb, Edmure and the Blackfish - only kin.

Once the doors had shut, Arya waited for another moment before smiling at Grey Wind in the corner. "Nymeria and Lady are at the Twins."

"Who is at the Twins," Edmure turned towards his sister.

Lady Catelyn sighed. "Robb is not the only one with a direwolf," she answered her brother. "Nymeria belongs to Arya and Lady belongs to Sansa. When you saw them last," her attention was on her daughter once again, "that was quite some time ago, Arya. How can you be sure?"

"I just know. I can't explain it, but I know," Arya glanced nervously at Robb before lifting her head higher. "And Nysa's letter says it as well."

"You got that from this odd poetry," the Blackfish questioned.

"Why not just say that in front of..."

Arya shook her, stopping Edmure from finishing his question. "While we were at the Inn at the Crossroads, Nymeria attacked Joffrey to protect me. Cersei wanted Nymeria dead. I sent her away. Because they couldn't find her, they wanted Sansa's direwolf. Nysa let her go in the woods, helping to save them both. My father presented a wolf's skin to Cersei, but it wasn't Lady," she shook her head.

"The Lannisters think they're dead," the Blackfish smiled.

Arya nodded. Then, she looked back at her brother and mother.

"It's obvious that House Frey doesn't know about them, either. If they did," she gestured to the letter, "Nysa wouldn't have phrased the letter in such a way. The crossing instead of crossroads," Arya said, "it means that they are there at the Twins. I sent Nymeria away, Nysa saved Lady - the saving of two. And now the two of them are there, protecting her. I know it."

* * *

Nysa sighed as her arrow missed the center, but hit the outer rim. She stared at the target before taking a step back. She wanted to use the excuse that she was with child - her swollen belly getting in the way. In all honestly, it wasn't that much of a problem. Perhaps it was because it wasn't Torrhen's bow that she was using.

"You aim against the wind," Tyta told her, nodding towards the target. She notched an arrow and lifted her bow in the air. "Use it to your advantage," Tyta said before releasing the arrow and making her mark on the target.

Cheers and claps were heard in the back - louder than when Nysa shot her arrow. Nysa smiled as Tyta turned around and curtsied for her sisters and nieces.

"You truly are an amazing archer," Nysa turned to look at her. "Why do you not fight with your brothers - for the King, that is?"

Tyta looked at her Queen in confusion. "Women aren't allowed to..."

"You do know that one of the King's personal guards is a woman," Nysa pointed out. "Not to mention that other than your brother Stevron and several guards under my brother's command - I, too, also have a woman as my personal guard."

Tyta shook her head. "My father would never allow it. He is still upset with me that I haven't found a good husband, yet." Nysa tilted her head. "I scare them away, apparently. No Lord wants a soldier for a wife."

"I know exactly what type of woman your father thinks makes a suitable wife," Nysa sighed.

"He truly isn't a bad man. He has his moments, of course," Tyta explained. "But we are all well-cared for, my Queen."

"I know. I just wish that I could do more. Not just for the brides to be, but for all of you," Nysa stepped forward as a sudden idea struck her mind. "What if I was to ask your father if you could come with me?"

"You have a Lord in mind for me to wed?"

"I had not thought of it. Perhaps one day there could be, if you wish for me to arrange it. But, I meant as a guard - a Queensguard."

Nysa could see that with that small statement, Tyta's interest had been piqued. For the past few weeks - other than sewing and breaking fast with the other Ladies, Nysa had been out here in the yard training with Lady Tyta, Ser Perwyn and Ser Jared. Oswell had come out a few times to learn how to use a sword properly - every Lord should. But on the occasions that Tyta had been allowed to spar with her brothers - she had shown that she could best all of them. And as Nysa had learned, not all the Ladies were permitted to leave the Twins. Tyta could grow and thrive beyond these walls - just like the rest of them. She was sure of it.

"It's not an easy task, I assure you," Nysa began as Tyta continued to think on the matter. "If you were to come with me, you'd have to guard me, watch over me and my children. And I'm sure Lyra Mormont could tell you that I do often share my concerns, so, a patient, listening ear is a quality you would need," she smiled. "If you desire a husband, then I could always..."

"I don't," Tyta looked up suddenly. "At least not right away."

Nysa nodded.

"It's just that," she paused before continuing, "I want my freedom, your Grace," Tyta stood tall. "These past few days, you gave me a taste of that. You gave all of us a taste of that," she gestured towards the other women in the distance. "My father's wife smiles," Tyta said with a small laugh, "everyone smiles. I do not know what will happen when you leave this place."

"I will still be Queen of the Trident," Nysa replied. "I will do all that I can."

"Do you know just how much you've given the Ladies in the Riverlands? When you hear of how you arranged a marriage between House Bracken and House Blackwood," Tyta drew close to tears, "to hear of a Queen - our Queen - listen to our concerns, answer our daughter's questions, ease the minds of the guards' families - it gives us hope that someone cares for us. And when you leave, you take that with you."

Nysa shook her head. "I'll still be looking out for those under my rule. It's why I'm taking Alyx, Merianne and Shirei with me. I need to know the concerns of the Riverlands. If I truly am your Queen..."

"To many of us, you already are." Tyta took another step back and looked at her target that they had shot. "That is why we believe in you and why I'll accept. I'll become your Queensguard, my Queen."

* * *

Robb sighed and pulled his horse to a stop just before they reached the bridge to the Twins. Grey Wind had been leading the party but had also stopped to stare out into the nearby woods. Robb called him back before looking at the woods as well. After the meeting - after Edmure and the Blackfish had left - Arya had stated that sometimes at night, she could see herself running through the woods, alongside Lady and several other wolves. That's how she knew they were by the Twins. She had seen Nysa. She had seen Bran. She had seen Jon. She thought it was all madness, but Nysa's letter confirmed it for her.

Robb knew then - knew that his sister had the same bond as well.

The direwolves of House Stark were watching over their Queen, too.

* * *

"I extend to you my hospitality and protection in the light of the Seven," Lord Frey continued as he was then offered up the salt and bread.

"We thank you for your hospitality, my Lord," Robb replied.

"Yes, yes, well four weddings," he smiled, leaning forward, "and three more have been promised to my House. The Queen has truly made amends."

"I am glad that she did. Now, I also hope to offer up my apologies to you and your daughters," Robb spoke. "It was cruel and unjust for me to break an oath to both you and them. Is there any way I can beg for their forgiveness for my actions?"

"That would be fitting, but they are not here."

"Then where are they, my Lord?"

"Getting ready for this wedding. It's costing nothing to me, I daresay, but to open my gates to all the guests who are present," Lord Frey opened his hand. "I do not know how she did it, but the Queen was able to get Arbor gold and Dornish red wine," he smiled as the men cheered. "Said I could have the left-over barrels which would amount to plenty," he looked towards the door way as it opened and closed.

"Forgive me, your Grace," a small voice spoke up from behind the Frey men. Some of them scoffed and didn't move, that was until whoever had entered the room began to stomp her foot impatiently. "If you will not move, then the Queen shall be most displeased with all of you."

Robb noticed that a couple of them showed fear in their eyes before moving out of the way. His eyes then settled upon a young woman - perhaps the same age if not younger than Arya. She held her head high as she walked past the Frey men - a small smile displayed on Ser Perwyn and a few others. While Ser Stevron and the other Frey men with him looked shocked. She walked briskly past them and curtsied in front of Robb as he nodded his head towards her.

"My youngest, Shirei," Lord Frey spoke up. "The Queen has requested that Shirei be among the four Frey women who she is taking with her North."

Robb noted that the presence of the young girl was met with shocked whispers from behind him. Ser Stevron had murmured that surely this wasn't his youngest sister. She had been the first Frey woman - girl, in this case - that they had come across. She was dressed in a beautiful green gown and her hair was arranged in a braid befitting a Princess. He glanced at Arya to see that she was fidgeting in her grey gown from Lady Whent but her hair - now shoulder length - hung around her face. It was the best that his mother could do, considering Arya had put up a fit about dressing.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Shirei," Robb bowed.

"Pleasure is mine, your Grace," she dipped into a curtsy again to Robb and then swiftly looked over to Lady Catelyn. "My Lady Stark, I am so very pleased to meet you. The Queen has told me many kind things about you and to meet someone from House Tully, I consider it an honor indeed."

"The honor is mine, I assure you," Lady Catelyn smiled and curtsied to the girl in reply.

Another woman stepped in the room, behind Lady Shirei and curtsied. Ser Stevron and the others behind him cursed and murmured. Edmure noted that the woman was tall, decent looks but plain - according to him. The Frey men noted the obvious difference in their sister, though. What had happened while they were in Riverrun? Jory noted that the woman wore a dagger on her side and had a bow strung across her shoulder - just as Nysa would.

"My other daughter, Tyta," Lord Frey stated. "She has become somewhat of guard or, what have you..."

"I serve as Queen Nysa's personal guard," the Lady answered.

Lyra Mormont stepped forward. "For now, my Lady," she replied hotly.

"It seems as though we both will be in service to the Queen," Tyta smiled.

"Women," Lord Frey scoffed. "Your wife chooses women to guard her, bah," he chuckled and waved at his daughter dismissively. "She thinks she can shoot an arrow better than my sons," he laughed again. "I've told them, though, there's only place where a woman belongs and it's not out in the yard."

"Come, come, Lord Frey," all heads turned to see Nysa walked in slowly behind Lady Tyta. "There's no need to be so forward. At least let us wait until we've had some food and wine in our bellies," she said as the men cheered again, "before we let the crude remarks fly."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Nysa turned towards Robb and smiled widely. She looked healthy - rounder and brighter. Her eyes sparkled when their gazes locked and she nodded her head slightly at him.

"There she is," Lord Frey turned in his seat, "our Queen. She is a pretty face - at least prettier than the lot I have. And shapely," he added the last part as both Nysa and Robb's smiles disappeared. "Even before she grew heavier with child. I can't blame you, my King," he smiled and licked his lips, looking at Nysa's direction. "When I was your age, I'd given anything for a pair of firm tits and a tight fit."

Robb moved to take Nysa safely into his arms but Catelyn had grabbed him quickly.

"My Lord, you are a flatterer," Nysa replied as they turned towards her in shock. "I am so round with child. To hear of you speak of me being shapely," she waved her hand at him. "Lord Frey is quite the avid conversationalist, my King. Always bestowing little compliments my way. I daresay it's no wonder why he's been wed so often. Many a women would be so fortunate to have a husband praise them as he does," she smiled.

Lord Walder Frey burst out in laughter. "Now who is the flatterer?"

"Forgive me for being late to receive you, my King," Nysa turned back towards Robb. "I had just left the rooms of Lady Roslin, Lady Arwyn and Lady Marissa," she nodded towards Edmure, Patrek and Jory. "They are very eager to meet you all."

"Eager," Lord Frey cackled. "I like an eager woman, waiting for me. Speaking of eager brides, where is..."

He pointed towards the crowd. Nysa stepped forward and spotted the Lady in the back. Jeyne nodded and began to walk forward. Nysa noticed that Jeyne's father was present along with a few others from House Westerling. Nysa stopped Jeyne from stepping further towards the middle of the room. "If you do not wish to accept..."

"I already have," Jeyne interrupted. "Nothing can undo it."

"I can," Nysa reminded her. "Lord Frey's grandson is promised Harrenhal whomever he will wed," she said is a soft tone. "Therefore, you do not need to do this."

"I think we both know that I must," Jeyne replied with a small curtsy.

Nysa nodded and turned around to reveal Jeyne standing next to her. "My Lord Frey, may I present to you Lady Jeyne Westerling, the future Lady of Harrenhal."

"Harrenhal," one of the men behind them spoke up.

Nysa's head snapped around to see a man shake his head angrily.

"She's not taking that castle, that rubbish..."

"And you are," Nysa questioned.

"Ser Rolph Spicer, my Queen."

"Ser Spice?"

"Spicer," he repeated.

Nysa's lips twitched into a smile before she burst into a fit of giggles. Lady Shirei, along with a few others began to giggle and laugh as well. "Forgive me, Ser. But you're name is one letter away from being a spider," she said as a few of the Frey men chuckled also. "I don't really like spiders. I smash them whenever they creep too close to me," she added with a serious expression and a lifted eyebrow.

That was when all laughter stopped. She glanced around her before eyeing the older knight up and down.

"Lady of Harrenhal is nothing to be ashamed of. I learned from the young men here that there is a wonderful history of that castle. And," she turned dismissively away from the knight and took Jeyne's arm, linking it with hers, "it can continue to be made wonderful once again - with the right touch from its Lady. What do you think of the bride, Lord Frey," Nysa glanced at the end of the hall.

Lord Walder held a crooked smile and Jeyne tried not to shrink back as his eyes wander over her. "Its a pity, a great pity indeed that we don't practice the Lord's right to the first night," he replied while licking his lips. "I envy my grandson that he'll have such a pretty wife."

Nysa gripped onto Jeyne's arm. "Hold your head high," she whispered. "Don't let his words affect you," she added. "You'll be Lady of Harrenhal. You'll command your own army of Frey men."

Jeyne did exactly as told and smiled before dipping into a curtsy.

"I fear it is women like Lady Jeyne and I to envy Lady Joyeuse, my Lord," Nysa complimented as he waved them off. "Speaking of which, I will be taking Lady Jeyne with me now," she glanced over her shoulder again, "if you don't mind Lord Westerling and Ser Spider," she added as a few chuckles filled the hall. "We have much to discuss - us womenfolk," she smiled.

"Of course, of course," Lord Frey gestured for them to leave.

"You will be entertaining the men, won't you, Lord Frey," she paused just before they exited.

"Yes, yes," he nodded.

"Excellent," she beamed. "I knew I could count on you Lord Frey," she smiled. "I'll see the rest of you at the wedding."

Lady Catelyn caught Nysa's gaze then and nodded towards the young woman in approval. She wasn't sure how she had done it, but Nysa did survive in the Twins. She was standing there, commanding attention and demanding respect - demanding respect for his daughters and the other women at the Twins. A surge of pride shot through Lady Catelyn then. They had succeeded in raising a wonderful young woman. Oh, if only Ned could be here to see - the little infant they found was truly a Queen.

* * *

Jon shook his head and turned away. He had just gotten them back and now Bran wanted to leave. What for, he had asked. To see a raven, was the answer. Meera had told Jon about this so-called raven and how it called to Bran, but he didn't think anything on it. He didn't want Bran to leave Winterfell - leave him.

 _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell._

"I can't let you go," Jon replied, not bothering to turn around. "It's dangerous out there for you. I don't care if you'll have Hodor or Jojen Reed with you. I don't even care if you bring half the guards that we have with you," his voice grew louder. "You have to stay here. This is your home. You said the raven speaks to you in your dreams, then why can't you just keep on that way?"

"There's more that I need to see," Bran pressed. "Robb is losing control of the Northmen and the River Lords. He needs to work with Nysa - learn to listen to her. She's been learning so much - from mother, from the other Ladies, the other Lords. If he wishes to be King of Westeros, actions need to be taken."

"Robb doesn't want all of Westeros," Jon turned to face his younger brother this time. "He just wants to get Sansa back, protect the North, protect our family."

Bran shook his head slightly. "As I said, I can sense that there is something else. There is also a bond between you and Nysa - it grows stronger every day. But I can't see why it's there. She needs you here, here in Winterfell, in the North. For what reason, I can't see beyond that. The wildlings that are coming, these White Walkers that we're hearing of - I can learn about them, learn what's happening beyond this war in the South. There's another war coming, Jon. We need to prepare for it."

"And what of Winterfell," Jon glanced around the hall. "It needs you, Bran. You are the Lord of our home, the Stark who..."

"And you are a Stark of Winterfell also, Jon," Bran answered. "You're the one who is here, who saved what little was left of this place, who helped save the North from the Ironborn."

"I am not a Stark."

"Not by name," Bran replied.

Jon shook his head, thinking in the moment on how to respond. _And you are a Stark. You may not have my name. But you have my blood._ His father had told him that, had bid him farewell before he left for the Wall.

 _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell._

"I cannot presume to..."

"Jon," Bran said in a serious manner. "The Starks of Winterfell have been known to have a sense of honor and justice in the North. They are descendants from the old Kings of Winter - those who protect the North. They gained the respect of those under their command because of their honesty and strong belief in the gods and laws of Westeros. You are a Stark."

* * *

"I understand if you are upset with me my Queen," Jeyne spoke up, causing Nysa to pause and turn sharply towards her. "The King is..."

"My husband," Nysa finished for her.

"He does love you, your Grace," Jeyne quickly noted. "I don't think he would have ever..."

Nysa held up her hand and Jeyne nodded her head in understanding. "We will place that to the side," Nysa gestured for them to continue walking. "I have someone here that I wish for you to meet."

Tyta stood at the end of the hall and opened the door at the end of it.

"If you haven't seen her in the meeting hall, this is Lady Tyta Frey, daughter or Lord Walder Frey. She will be serving on my Queensguard once we leave the Twins but I have asked that she assure your safety until you are escorted down to the Sept for the wedding."

Jeyne looked back at Nysa, shocked and surprised.

"My safety?"

"Your virtue, of course," Nysa added.

"Of course," Jeyne nodded. "None of the other Frey men are going to..."

"Not with me around," Tyta spoke up, "I assure you, my Lady."

Jeyne seemed to bright at the thought. "Is this who we were to meet?"

"No, it is not," Nysa answered. "I spent almost two moons here at the Twins, reassuring Lady Roslin, Lady Awren and Lady Marissa that everything would be okay and that the men they were going to exchange vows with were respectable, honorable men. They would fight and die for their King - or Queen," she smiled and then looked down. "I told Lady Marissa stories of when my brother and I were in Winterfell and how heroic, brave and," she blushed, "and of how kind he could be."

She glanced at Jeyne and smiled.

"I spoke about how beautiful Riverrun is and how delighted they would be to finally have a Lady to bring life there to Lady Roslin. I explained how adventurous Seaguard can be, all the excitement it holds for Lady Arwen once she goes there. Then I realized that I did nothing to reassure you, my Lady, that this would be an advantageous marriage and one that you could also find admiration from your husband."

Jeyne opened her mouth to reply but was overcome with feeling.

"I know that I still harbor some ill-feeling towards you," Nysa stepped forward. "But I want us to look past this, I want something better for not only my marriage but also the women who are under my care. Your House swore its fealty to us and I thank you for it."

Jeyne nodded. "I knew that in order to ensure our father's safety and display loyalty to you that I would need to do this."

"And this doesn't have to be burdensome," Nysa reminded. "You will become Lady of Harrenhal. And though it is not much now, I know that it may become something with a little care from its Lady," she touched Jeyne's arms and gave it a reassuring squeeze before holding up her hand to continue on in.

"I never thought you'd give them Harrenhal or make me a Lady of such a castle," Jeyne began, "especially since, well," Jeyne paused and looked down.

"Did I forget to mention that it is far away from my husband," she added as Jeyne nodded guiltily.

"Of course. Forgive me, my Queen, for everything..."

"Enough of that," Nysa waved her off. "Now may I introduce you to Oswell Frey, the future Lord of Harrenhal?"

Oswell stepped forward slowly and reached for Jeyne's hand, lifting it slowly to his mouth.

"This is Lady Jeyne Westerling of the Crag," Nysa said as Oswell looked up and caught his betrothed's eyes on him.

"I am pleased to finally meet you, my Lady," Oswell replied and Jeyne couldn't help but blush.

He didn't appear dirty and unkept as the other Frey guards she had seen. No, he was dressed in a fine tunic. Jeyne noted the way his chiseled jaw and stubble chin turned into a smile against her hand. He wasn't like the other Freys at all and definitely not what she was expecting.

"And this is his mother, Lady Shylla," Nysa said breaking the young pair from their spell.

Something had passed as they met one another. Nysa was certain of it. Oswell was certain of it. Jeyne was certain of it. Oswell kept her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand as he moved her to stand side by side with him. Jeyne pressed her lips together shyly before glancing towards the woman who would become her mother by law.

"Lady Jeyne, I am so glad that you have arrived," Lady Shylla noted. "We've heard many things about you from the Queen," she smiled and gestured to Nysa.

"I am honored," Jeyne curtsied.

"You are very pretty," Lady Shylla smiled again. "I think I will have beautiful grandchildren."

"Mother," Oswell scolded as Jeyne blushed.

"Perhaps the two of you will like to speak to one another," Nysa gestured to the small table.

Oswell pointed to the chair and Jeyne sat down slowly in it. She looked back at Nysa before smiling at Oswell as he sat opposite her. "So, my Lady, I hear you like tourneys and feasts."

"Aye, I do," Jeyne answered.

They talked much about their childhood, their likes and dislikes, what made the other happy and what they feared the most. He certainly wasn't like the other Frey men she had met. When he said something humorous, she actually found it delightful. An hour or two later, the two were so engrossed in conversation that Jeyne forgot the Queen and Lady Shylla were serving as silent chaperones. Jeyne giggled before she could help it and immediately put up her mouth to quiet herself. Nysa smiled and looked up from the pair as did Lady Shylla. Oswell reached over and took her hand in his, removing it from her mouth.

"Don't," he whispered, "you have a beautiful laugh."

"Thank you," she said, before reaching over and placing her other hand over his. "My Lord," she finished.

"Oswell," he replied.

Jeyne gave a small nod.

"I think that this is a beautiful start," Oswell added.

"So do I," Jeyne nodded, "Oswell."

Oswell reached over to kiss her cheek again but this time his mother stood up and cleared her throat. Both Oswell and Jeyne blushed as they dropped their hands and looked away, shyly. "I believe that you've had more than enough time to speak with your betrothed," Lady Shylla stood slowly. "May I remind you that the other husbands are not so fortunate."

"No, they most certainly are not," Oswell smiled up at Jeyne.

Jeyne blushed something crimson and couldn't help the fluttering feeling spreading through her. He was openly flirting with her and she didn't need to encourage him so much as she had the King. It was as if he was truly enraptured with her. She talked, he listened. She smiled - and none of them were forced as if she had to feign that he was interesting. No. He enjoyed the same things as her. He had a kind heart and a bright outlook - that much she could discern.

She couldn't believe how wrong her mother was.

* * *

Edmure sighed as he stood in the Sept, watching as House Frey filed in. Patrek seemed jovial enough - not a care in the world. He had openly made eyes at the Lady Tyta who had been guarding the Queen, unashamed that he was betrothed to her younger sister. Jokingly, he told Edmure that she was decent looking and if she was a Queensguard, he couldn't wait to see his intended.

Edmure still thought all of this was a joke. Despite agreeing to it, his Uncle and his sister had to practically drag him here from Riverrun. Robb had demanded that he agree - Nysa's well-being counted on his agreeing. Of course, he agreed. But he silently wondered if Nysa would chose an ugly bride for him just to irritate him. She was terribly upset with the prisoners he had taken from House Lannister, though he knew that it wasn't all his fault.

He snorted lightly as the Queen walked in. She was escorted by a young man who looked as though he had received the greatest news of his life.

Nysa paused halfway through the aisle and turned the young man to greet Ser Raynald Westerling and Ser Rolph. It was obvious that she was introducing the young man who would be wedding Lady Jeyne. He smiled lightly at that. It was a brilliant idea to have the young women wed another - and place her where Robb wouldn't be.

After introductions were made, Nysa was escorted by the young Frey towards the King. She barely opened her mouth and gestured towards Oswell when Robb detached her from Oswell and pulled her tightly to him.

"I have it in mind to punish you harshly," he growled.

"I'll accept," she said before leaning towards his ear to whisper, "whatever you give me."

He grunted in an appreciative manner. "Do not ever leave me again," Robb growled before pressing his lips against hers in a determined way, his passion for her never dying. She responded in kind as those in the hall began to clap and cheer. Their kissing slowed as the cheers died down. He pressed one final, gentle kiss on her lips causing Nysa to sigh contentedly. Robb pressed his lips to her forehead. "I've missed you, my Queen."

"And I have missed you, my King."

Just as quickly as she was back in his arms, she left him to head towards her brother. They embraced just as tightly, Jory Cassel whispering something in her ear causing her to laugh. She pulled back as he touched her stomach and they shared a smile.

"Do not worry brother," Nysa lifted her hand to his face. "Lady Marissa is strong - both in mind and character. She will survive in the North."

"Is she nervous," Jory chuckled, "because I am."

"You have no need to be. She is the perfect Lady for you," was the response before she kissed his cheek and came to stand in front of Edmure.

"My Queen," Edmure bowed to her as her expression stayed light.

"Lord Edmure," she nodded, "I am glad that you accepted the terms. I heard that you disagreed with my choice of bride."

"Hardly," Edmure replied. "I merely disliked not having to chose for myself."

Nysa smiled politely. "I see. I'd like to put your mind at ease somewhat, Lord Edmure. Lady Roslin is very kind and generous. She has a sweet temper. The two of you will get along perfectly."

Before he could reply, another person interrupted them. "And what of my bride, my Queen?"

She took a few steps to the side until she stood in front of Ser Patrek Mallister. He smiled and bowed to her as she responded in a curtsy. "You tell me," Nysa pressed, "I hear that the two of you have exchanged letters."

"Aye, we have," Ser Patrek's smile widened. "And if they are anything to go by, my wife appears that she will not be bullied around." He leaned down towards the Queen's ear, "and she is rather flirtatious."

The young Queen shook her head before smiling at Oswell who took his place at the end. He returned her smile and then it was back to her seat where she took her place next to the King. He held her hand around the crook of his arm and leaned down to whisper pleasing words to her as she smiled. Edmure tore his eyes away and went to look down the aisle.

He noticed Lady Joyeuse Frey walk in - with more of the Frey women. He didn't understand. Were these the same women that he had heard about? He had met Lady Joyeuse once before. Surely, that couldn't be Lord Frey's newest wife. She had a smile on her and dressed in a gown that he would see befitting royalty. All of the others who came in, he narrowed his eyes as their hair was presented in delicate braids and they all smiled - smiled!

Edmure shuffled nervously, wondering what was happening. Though many were still plain - they were by no means ugly. They smiled and laughed, looked up and conversed instead of staring at the ground with sad grieving expressions - as he had remembered. What was happening?

"We have the Queen to thank for everyone's happiness," Oswell spoke up from his end as if to answer Edmure's question. "She gave life to the women here." Edmure turned to see one of the little girls - blonde hair flying from the aisle towards Nysa. She picked up the young child and introduced her to Robb and Catelyn. "The children at the Twins adore her."

"She was born to be Queen," Jory mumbled next to Edmure.

Edmure glanced at the Queen's brother before he noticed that the doors had opened to bring the brides in. The first bride to walk in was Lady Jeyne Westerling. However the look on Oswell's face showed that there was no shock as to who his bride would be. In fact, they smiled knowingly at one another.

Down in the seats, Nysa leaned over to Lady Catelyn, "I thought the least I could do before wedding her off was introduce her to her intended."

"Excellent idea," Catelyn smiled and gave her a small nod.

"Oswell is a good man. And his father didn't abandon Robb and I when we needed House Frey."

"I thought you would have given Harrenhal to Ser Stevron."

"I wanted to, but at the same time his children stand to inherit the Twins," Nysa replied as little Perra Frey squirmed out of Nysa's arm to reach for the Blackfish. Lady Catelyn and Nysa turned to look at him. He shook his head and looked forward at Edmure. "He looks too somber, doesn't he, Perra," Nysa smiled.

"If I hug the young girl, the older ones will think me eligible," Ser Brynden teased as both Nysa and Lady Catelyn hid their smiles. Either way, Perra - didn't get the hug she wanted - leaned over to kiss Ser Brynden's cheek. And when he smiled down at her, she clapped her hands before burrowing shyly into Nysa's neck.

She noticed Edmure, Patrek and Jory's attention set on the doorway. Nysa took a step around Robb to see Merrett Frey bring Marissa to a stop near their chairs. Lord Frey had insisted on covering the Frey girls until they arrived before their husbands. Nysa shuffled Perra to one side before reaching out to hug Marissa. She glanced at her brother who nodded knowingly that this was his bride.

* * *

Jory smiled lightly at the dress his bride wore. Nysa had received it a couple name-days ago but had never wore it. It was too delicate for the North, she had stated. Therefore, she sent it back to White Harbor for Wynafryd to put the dress to use. Neither Wynafryd or her sister had. Admittedly, it was a pretty dress - though Jory was certainly no judge on the matter. The second Merrett Frey pulled back the covering to reveal his daughter, Jory took a huge gulp and his breath left him.

Edmure bit his tongue and cursed lightly. Of course, she'd give her brother the prettiest girl here.

Jory glanced at Nysa who nodded encouragingly. Marissa's hand was placed in his and she offered a shy smile. Their conversation was light - that much Nysa couldn't make it out. But she smiled when seeing both her brother and Marissa's approval in one another. She turned her head to the row behind her just as Lord Walder was approaching with his two daughters.

"Lord Bolton," Nysa began.

"My Queen," he nodded to her.

"I heard from many of the Ladies here that you chose one of Lord Frey's granddaughters as a wife. It's a shame that we were not able to attend your wedding," she smiled gently as both Robb and Lady Catelyn turned to look at him in surprise.

Lord Bolton smiled politely before nodding. "It was arranged rather quickly, my Queen."

"I'm sure it was," Nysa replied, looking him up and down. "My brother is to wed your wife's sister. It would appear that you and I are kin now," she added.

"So it would, my Queen," he nodded.

Nysa smiled before turning around and watching as Arwyn and Roslin were uncovered. Edmure's reaction had to be of extreme awe and shock. He glanced at Nysa then, a questioning glance. She had almost leaned over to Lady Catelyn to ask what was wrong with her choice but Ser Brynden answered.

"He thought you'd choose the ugliest bride to spite him," the older knight chuckled.

"I didn't choose her because she was pretty. Ser Perwyn and Olyvar spoke very highly of her character," Nysa looked at the knight. "And how Riverrun would appreciate her as its Lady."

Ser Brynden nodded in approval. "Thank you for thinking of my home. I daresay, I think they'll get along just fine."

* * *

They converted the high table into something longer to hold Lord Frey, his wife and his two newly wed daughters and their husbands. Jeyne, Oswell, Marissa and Jory had another special table arranged for them next to the high table. Lady Catelyn shared table with Ser Brynden, Lord Bolton and Lord Karstark. Across from them sat the King and Queen - and the Queen's myriads of admirers. Robb attempted to apologize to each of them but he never truly found a listening ear from the women. They all wanted to speak to the Queen. Every now and then, she'd tug on his arm and introduce him to a young child - boy or girl - and they'd ask him endless questions about the North, his direwolf, capturing the Kingslayer, the Wall - anything and everything to sate their curiosity of their King.

"I think you'll make an excellent father," Nysa leaned against him as the children had been hurried to bed. This part of the feast had gotten rowdier and the wine had begun to flow in abundance.

Robb pressed his lips to her forehead, his hand snaking around her waist to pull her closer. "I had dearly wished for our son to be born in the North, but it looks like he may be born in the Riverlands, just as I was."

"Son, is it," Nysa pushed back with a teasing smile.

"I think it is," he placed his hand on her stomach, marveling at how it had grew. "Our little Prince," he smirked behind his beard. Nysa hummed in agreement before pressing her lips to his.

They shared a few light kisses before a throat cleared in front of their table.

"Forgive me, my King." Nysa turned away from Robb and smiled at the young man in front of them. "But I told my father that I would not go to bed until I've had a dance with our Queen," he said as Robb narrowed his eyes at him. He sunk down slightly before Nysa tilted her head at him, encouraging him to be brave.

Nysa leaned over to Robb. "Bryan Frey," she introduced him, "Ser Stevron's youngest grandson. We've already met his great-granddaughters. Little Perra didn't want to leave my side during the wedding."

"Ah," Robb nodded before glancing at the young man. "Well, as long as you promise me to keep her safe. And watch that she doesn't step on your feet," he whispered to Bryan which got a playful slap on the arm from his wife.

"I will, your Grace," young Bryan bowed down before holding out his hand for Nysa to take.

She had barely left the table, when she pushed one of the young Frey women towards him. "I hate to leave you on your own, my King. After all this is a wedding feast," Nysa said the last part loudly as the men and women lifted their cups and cheered.

The music was lively as Nysa was led out to the floor. Robb sipped his cup before guiding the young Frey woman out. Soon, there were crowds of dancing couples around them. Robb and Nysa never shared a dance together however. She had been swept away by almost every Northern Lord or Riverlands knight. Robb on the other hand, enjoyed dancing and conversing with the various women from House Frey. He had even encouraged the Mormont women to share a dance with him.

Nysa had just danced a third time with Harrion Karstark when she insisted that she needed to rest. One of the young Frey women came to the table then, asking for a dance. Harrion was loath to part from her side.

"Go," Nysa insisted.

"I could always escort you to your room, my Queen - especially if you tired."

"I just need to rest. But," she pulled him closer, "this is Zia Frey, one of Lord Frey's great-granddaughters. She has heard many things about men from the North - many good things."

"Then, let me not disappoint," Harrion smiled at her before standing up and leading the young woman to the floor.

"And how is our Queen this evening," Lord Rickard Karstark walked towards Nysa and sat down by her.

"Tired," she smiled at him. "I was thinking of retiring early."

At least she would be safe if she did, Lord Karstark thought for a moment. He watched as she turned her smile from him and looked over towards the other end of the hall. Nysa rest her hand on her stomach and rubbed it softly. Rickard tried not be resentful over the fact that it was not Torrhen's. He should be glad that it was his King's, his liege lord's heir. But he remembered how Torrhen had missed her, how plagued he was that he did not stop her from leaving Winterfell.

"I think Lord Umber needs to be rescued," Nysa laughed suddenly causing him to follow her line of sight.

"No," he chuckled. "He'll drink those Freys under the table."

"Aye, he probably will. The Umbers are built to resist even the strongest of wine," she laughed again before turning to him. "It reminds me of the feast Lord Stark held at Winterfell. Torrhen and I," she began to tell him of her memory, moving her hand from her stomach and touching his arm lightly.

She had an affectionate nature about her. It made him feel guilty.

"He and I were challenging one another with our wine," Nysa kept smiling. "We hid behind the the Greatjon's table. The Greatjon turned around and decided to challenge us as well. In the end, Torrhen and I would have fallen asleep on the tables if Jory and Harrion had not come to carry us off. I guess we can both guess who the winner was."

Nysa laughed lightly again and Rickard could not help but to join her.

"Why did you hide behind the Greatjon's table?"

"If Lady Stark had discovered me participating in a drinking contest that would have been the end of it," she jested before turning towards Lord Bolton. "Also that table was on the opposite end of the Bolton's table."

"I think I remember that feast," he answered allowing her to draw him into the memory. "Torrhen threw Bolton's son across the room."

"Torrhen was defending me," she replied. "He was there before things got bad. I was so scared and I guess he could sense it from wherever he sat," she said with a content look upon her face.

Speaking of his youngest son, made him feel a tad uncomfortable. The way she looked appeared as though she were still in love with him. He cleared his throat. "What happened after that?"

"Harrion escorted me away and then Torrhen came and made me laugh before suggesting that we challenge one another. Your sons always knew the right thing to do."

Rickard Karstark would have laughed at that. His sons were true northmen, warriors to the bone. But they also had heart, his wife made sure of that. Harrion had warned his father that Robb Stark was still their King. Harrion knew of the right thing to do and this was not the way to earn justice for Torrhen or Eddard.

"Mariah raised them to believe in what was right," Rickard stated before he could stop himself. "If it were left to me, I doubt that," he shook his head, "I doubt that my sons would come out the way they did."

"They were good men, all of them," Nysa smiled lightly, "and so is their father."

Rickard chuckled softly. "I only hope the same will come of my daughter. She is charming but spoiled," he chuckled. "That feast that you spoke of, I remember Mariah was trying to get Alys to dance with Bran Stark. She was determined not to dance. I told Mariah to leave the girl be but in the end, Alys went to dance with the little Stark boy."

Nysa snaked her hand around his arm and leaned against him as she smiled. "She enjoyed it. I think they both did."

"A bit too much," he growled. "They were found later on in the library."

"Reading," Nysa insisted innocently as Rickard shook his head.

What she said was true, the two of them were just reading about a story of dragons. It was innocent - the two of them were both too young to have such thoughts but the idea of his daughter sitting alone with another had been too much for him that evening.

"Torrhen was not the only one rescuing maidens in distress. If I remember correctly the reason why Alys ended up with Bran in there was to avoid the scene in the hall. Lord Ryswell's and Lord Tallhart's sons were fighting over who would dance with her next. And your cousin's son, Willam, gallantly strode in there to save her."

"I would hardly consider Willam to be gallant," he bellowed with laughter.

"No, I suppose not. Especially after that time Torrhen and Harrion came back from a hunt. They had a bear's claw with them and chased Willam around Karhold with it, the poor thing," she shook her head and Rickard turned to see her lost in the memory. "I would not say it then but I believe Willam screamed more than Alys had. Alys laughed but then she marched up to her brothers the same as Lady Mariah had and began to chastise them about it."

Rickard realized just how much Nysa had been a part of House Karstark. She had probably just as much stories or memories of Karhold as anyone in his family. She spent months there whenever she would visit. He remembered walking to Mariah's rooms and seeing Nysa there helping her with something. His wife enjoyed Nysa's company. He remembered seeing her carrying Alys, reassuring her, playing with her and teaching her words. His daughter cried for Nysa when she had gotten hurt one day and Nysa hurried to her side.

"I always admire Lady Mariah for that," Nysa continued pulling him from his thoughts.

"In what way," he asked her missing the conversation.

"She has this way with people," she answered. "I never knew my mother. All I was told was that she was a Southern Lady. And despite being told that I myself should act as one, I felt that being a Northern Lady was far better. Lady Dacey," she nodded to her, "and all her sisters, Lady Sarra Umber," she named the Greatjon's wife, "Lady Sybelle Glover," she gestured towards Lord Glover, "who knows what atrocities the Ironborn did to their homes and castles. But they are strong Northern Ladies, they'll persevere. They all do. Your wife is no exception," Nysa's eyes began to water and Rickard gave her hand a gentle pat. "She is bold and brave. That is how I want to be."

Rickard laughed then. "Aye, she could coax a bear out of it's nest during the winter. The North may be stubborn - its' lands and its' men - but they yield to the gentleness of an affectionate woman." He shook his head.

Nysa smiled encouragingly. "I think about what she would do if she had defend her home, protect her house and guide her husband as I do. As earlier mentioned, I never knew my mother. Lady Catelyn showed me compassion, duty and responsibility. But Lady Mariah showed me how to be brave," Nysa smiled and moved her other hand up to her cheek. Rickard reached over and wiped her tear before she could. "Forgive me. This is a celebration and I am ruining the mood."

"Hardly," Rickard objected. "It is to talk about her and share in the good memories of Karhold."

"I do miss her. I pray she were here to guide me, especially in times like these. She always had the best advice."

"Aye, I miss her wisdom too."

Rickard smiled and then saw her hand was tracing the Karstark sigil on her sword.

"You still carry that with you?"

Nysa looked down and then nodded. "I take it wherever I go - when possible. I like to think that he is still protecting me when I have it in my hand," she smiled.

It was obvious the 'he' that he spoke of was Torrhen. It surprised him a bit. True, they had been talking about memories of his wife and son but somehow this felt as though it were closer to her heart. "You think of him, even though you are wed," he pressed.

"I know some believe that I betrayed Torrhen by wedding Robb so soon after hearing of his death. It was not right what we did. I suppose we both were mourning people we cared about but that was still no excuse."

"You meant it," Lord Karstark asked again. "When we were in Riverrun," he alluded to that moment.

"Robb is my husband and my King. I carry his child," she rest her hand back on her stomach once more. "But all of that does not erase Torrhen from my heart. A part of me will always love him, carry him with me," she eyed the sword. "Robb and I spoke of this. He and I are wed now and though," she paused and smiled lightly, "though I love my husband and my King, the father of my child," she sighed happily, "yes, Lord Karstark, I still think fondly of your son. I don't pray to replace him with Robb or the other way around - not anymore. But I do think of him and how so desperately I want to avenge him."

Rickard nodded slowly and reached out to take her hand in his. "My Queen, there is something of utmost importance I wanted to share with you," he said in a hushed tone as he reached inside his tunic. He could see now that the love was still there. He was going to warn her now, tell her of Lord Bolton's plans.

His fingers had just wrapped around the letter when someone came to stand in front of their table.

"Is everything alright?"

They both looked up to see Robb - a bit breathless and with a small smile on his face. "Of course, my King," Nysa answered with the same smile. "Lord Karstark and I were just sharing fond memories."

His hand retreated from the letter as his other hand released his hold on the Queen. "I'll leave you two to enjoy the feast," Lord Karstark went to stand, "my King, my Queen," he bowed to both of them.

"Thank you, Lord Karstark," Nysa nodded her head, "for keeping me company. I hope you don't stay away too long. I much enjoy speaking about anything else other than this war."

"Of course, my Queen," he smiled before moving through the hall.

Lord Karstark had continued walking through the crowds of men and women until he came towards his son who had just finished dancing with one of the Lord Frey's granddaughters. Harrion nodded to the group he was with before pushing away and marching towards his father.

"Tell our guards to pull back," Rickard told his son in a hushed but hurried manner.

"Half of us weren't going to participate in it anyway," Harrion gritted through his teeth. "Torrhen adored Nysa and you're ready to..."

"I'm not," Rickard answer, "not anymore," he shook his head. "That girl," he gestured towards Nysa, "she is a Karstark, no matter who she wed. Her heart is and always will be in Karhold. She loves your sister. She admires your mother. And she'll get us vengeance for your brothers. I don't know why I..."

"We all make mistakes," Harrion told him. "It's not too late to fix this."

"Aye, it's not," Lord Karstark nodded. He glanced one more time at the young woman who had captured his son's heart and who would always hold him in hers, the young woman who helped save his daughter, the young woman who had a strong affection for his wife. "For Torrhen," he whispered.

* * *

Jory paused and shook his head. "I think I've spoken enough about the North, my Lady."

Marissa smiled and blushed. "It is to become my home now. I should dearly want to know more about it."

"Surely, the Queen has told you all sorts of stories about it."

"Aye, she has," Marissa looked up at him. "I've also heard stories of you, my Lord."

"Ah," he groaned as she laughed. "The Queen has many embarrassing stories of me, I hope she chose the right ones so as not to humiliate me greatly. And it's Jory, please," he insisted.

"If that be the case, then I should insist that you call me by my name as well," she leaned towards him - forward but still a little shy. It was enough to tell him that she was still nervous about being his wife, still nervous about going to the North - to unfamiliar territory. "Is Greenhall far from Winterfell," she asked then before looking down, "Jory?"

"Barely a day's ride away," he reached under her chin and lifted it until her eyes met his, "Marissa."

Something strange stirred in Jory then. This woman is his wife now. He had talked to Nysa about it when she was younger - that they would both wed for love. He didn't want to have to 'learn' to love a wife. And considering their circumstances, he knew that it would be possible. But here he was - wedding a stranger, for political gain, an arrangement made by a Queen and a Lord. And despite how different the ideal was of what he had originally purposed he found that he did not care as much. She would become a Cassel. She would be his family. She would be rewarded with all the respect and admiration that he had to give.

Jory went to inform his wife of just that before Lord Frey called the King.

"Your Grace," Lord Frey shouted as the Frey men began to cheer. He put up his hand to silence them as Jory glanced towards the high table to see what this was about. "The Septon has prayed his prayer, the words were said and my two daughters along with my granddaughter," he lifted his cup towards Marissa, "have been wrapped in cloaks. My grandson has brought a new woman into House Frey. But they are all not man and wife, yet," he cackled as did the other Freys.

Jory didn't like where this was going.

"A sword needs a sheath," Lord Frey laughed.

Marissa looked down in horror as she heard her father claim that her mother was a good fit - so she should be too. Jory took her hand in his and stroked it gently. Now he understood which part of the feast this was. There was no easy way to get out of this - especially if the men were all cheering for it.

"And a wedding needs a bedding," Lord Frey shouted as Nysa stood up quickly.

"My Lord Frey," Nysa interrupted. "I promised the girls that there would be no bedding ceremony. I'm sure their husbands would not want any man to touch their wife."

She sighed, closing her eyes as the entire hall filled with shouts, chanting 'bed' over and over again.

"We are in the Riverlands, my Queen. And it is tradition," Lord Frey said. "What say you, my King?"

Robb stood slowly as the chanting for the bedding ceremony continued. Nysa looked at him pleadingly. Jory knew though, he'd give in. He'd oblige House Frey this tradition - the men demanded it. The moment Nysa bit her lip and looked down, the men howled louder - knowing their King was calling for the bedding.

Robb turned around to look at the hall as it quieted down before smiling up at Edmure, Patrek, Jory and then Oswell. "I must agree with you, Lord Frey. I think the husbands are ready. Let us bed them," he answered as groups of men flew past him, rushing towards Roslin, Arwyn, and Jeyne.

Jory stood up quickly and raised a hand towards the oncomers.

"I know this is tradition, but I will take my wife to our chambers, myself."

"My Lord Cassel," Lord Frey began.

Jory turned to look at him. "The Queen is right. I don't want anyone touching my wife but me. She is mine now. You'll know I've bedded her in the morning."

Nysa nodded towards him in appreciation - glad that she could at least spare one bride the humiliation. She turned to see Roslin and Arwyn being hoisted up over the men's shoulders - their gowns being thrown off of their bodies the second they reached the doors. Nysa reached her hand out for Jeyne to see that the Frey men were enjoying carrying her off a bit too much. Jeyne put on a brave but nervous smile as she passed Nysa. Lady Catelyn, Arya, Lyra and Dacey had come to stand by Nysa's side at that exact moment.

"This is tradition," Lady Catelyn reminded them.

"I'd stab the men who decided to do that to me," Arya said from next to her as the Frey women and a few from other Riverland Houses came to escort Edmure, Patrek and Oswell away.

"Half-way down the hall your father did exactly that for me," she looked over at Arya with a smile, "only he broke the man's jaw with his fist, before carrying me away from them."

"I wanted to spare the brides," Nysa said.

"I know," Catelyn touched her shoulder.

They smiled at one another before Nysa noticed her brother and Marissa leaving. "Marissa," Nysa pushed past the crowd and hugged the young woman.

She was shaking and Nysa thought of something she could say to calm the bride. Just as she was ready, Marissa whispered into her ear, "My grandfather has betrayed you, my Queen."

Nysa tensed slightly before giving Marissa's body a quick and affectionate squeeze. She pushed back and looked the young woman in the eyes. "You have nothing to fear, Marissa. My brother will treat you kindly."

"My Queen," she was confused as to whether the Queen heard her or not. But Nysa most certainly did. If she reacted now, they would know. So, she kissed Marissa on the forehead and watched her brother escort her out.

Tyta came by then and looked at her solemnly. "I know," Nysa whispered.

"Know what," Tyta questioned.

Nysa stared hard into the eyes of the woman she had asked to become one of her personal guards. "I know," she said slowly and with determination. Those two words conveying exactly what she knew - they had been betrayed. She just wasn't sure where it would come from and how it would start.

"You promised me earlier that I could go with you," Tyta began. "That you would allow me freedom as long as I protected you and your family?" Nysa nodded. "Then, perhaps my Queen, you'd like to take part in the ceremony?" Nysa raised an eyebrow at her, wondering what this was about. "It'll get you out of here," she leaned in.

Nysa understood then, the act of betrayal was going to take place here - after everyone had left. The wine had been shared, the bedding taking place and the soldiers all outside of the Twins.

"Lady Catelyn," Nysa went to grab her.

"I'm too old for such a ceremony," she smiled politely, clearing ignorant of the exchange. "You girls go," she urged.

Nysa had to warn Robb. She had to stay. But...

"Arya," Nysa turned to her.

"What," Arya questioned in a disgusted tone.

"I am a married woman now," Nysa smiled at Tyta. "Princess Arya, why don't you join the other young women?" Arya stuck out her tongue and feigned a dry-heaving noise. She had to make sure someone got out of the hall now and warn the men outside. The only groom left in the hall was Ser Patrek. The time for Arya to leave was definitely now. Nysa hugged Arya towards her tightly and fiercely. "Grey Wind needs to find his sisters right now," she said quickly, "we're all in danger, Arya."

Arya stopped squirming out of Nysa's arms at the statement.

"We've been betrayed," she whispered as she felt Arya's body inhale a deep breath.

Nysa released the calm but frightened girl and nodded to her.

"I'll go with you, Tyta."

"Really, Arya," Lady Catelyn questioned.

"Oh yes," Arya put on a smile, "I was just waiting for Lord Edmure to leave. I didn't want to see his cock, mother," she said, running after the group of women before Lady Catelyn could scold her.

Nysa had Lyra follow Arya out and commanded that the young woman ensure Arya found her way back. Everything about the conversation was innocent and Nysa was sure that no one could tell that she knew. She glanced around the room as they continued to clap and cheer as the final couple exited.

The first person to meet her eyes was Ser Stevron. He had known about their plot. She had gave him gold and still...

Ser Stevron slowly shook his head and lifted his cloak to reveal he wore the Stark sigil on his clothing. Nysa smiled in relief as he smiled in return. He nodded towards a few other Frey knights who lifted their cups to her. She wasn't alone. The betrayal wasn't full scope. But who else was there? Who was on the other side? Which members of House Frey were in it?

Nearby clapping interrupted her thoughts and she saw Robb coming to stand by her. "Forgive me. I know you didn't want it," Robb began. "But it is tradition. How else will they know that the bride and groom have consummated their marriage?"

Nysa smiled brightly at him, attempting to calm her nerves, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"There are other ways to know a man has bedded his wife, Robb," she leaned up to give him a light kiss.

He groaned in appreciation, moving his hands from her round belly to her backside. The kiss deepened before they had to pull away for air. Their foreheads touched as they smiled at one another. As she saw Lothar Frey and Ser Aenys and a few others out of the corner of her eye, she knew that the attack was going to happen soon.

"I love you," she pulled back and looked up into his eyes. "I always have and I always will," she said as the smile remained on his face. "I just wanted you to know, just in case we don't survive the night."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Tyrion Lannister sat there with a shocked expression on his face before glancing at Pod. Sansa had learned that the young man served as Lord Tyrion's squire. He looked to be quite young - perhaps closer to her age than anything. She stood there with a calm smile on her face and tried to dismiss the feeling of being frightened. This man was to become her husband soon - very soon, according to rumor.

"I had not thought that you'd want to discuss any wedding arrangements," Tyrion offered.

"You are to be the groom, aren't you," Sansa smiled.

"Yes, but..."

"Well then," Sansa walked inside and sat down in a nearby chair. "Perhaps we can discuss a few requests that I would have."

Tyrion glanced at Pod and waved his hand. Pod left the area only to return quickly with a plate of fruit. He sat it down in front of Sansa before hurrying to pour both Tyrion and Sansa some wine.

Sansa looked at Tyrion, remembering what Margery had spoken of. He apparently had talent in pleasing a woman. Sansa blushed for the indecent thought before turning towards Pod to thank him for the wine. Tyrion wasn't a fearless knight such as Loras - no, he most certainly was not. But he did have a kind heart and would bravely defend her - even to Joffrey.

An image of his figure standing before the Iron Throne, holding out his hand for her to take, for her to leave Joffrey. He had also offered her an alternative to end her betrothal to Joffrey.

Another image of his concerned face as Ser Preston carried her inside from the mob that had attacked them - attacked her. He had desired to ensure her safety and well-being - far more than Joffrey every did, especially on that day.

Another fleeting memory of him sharing his condolences after her father had been executed. He had been the only one to do so. Lord Baelish had tried - oh yes, he did try. But she could see the sincerity on Tyrion's face. She had dared to hope that someone could comfort her. Instead her face had hardened, and she called her father a 'traitor'.

"I understand that your father hasn't named an heir to Casterly Rock yet," Sansa began.

Tyrion choked on his wine. His eyes widened before looking up at her. Sansa on the other hand looked away and quickly took a sip from her cup before setting it back down. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and waited for Tyrion to respond.

Tyrion downed his cup quickly before gesturing for Pod to refill it.

"I would also ask that you not drink as much when we are wed," Sansa smiled politely.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Already the nagging starts," he playfully replied before downing his cup again. "I have a high tolerance for wine, my Lady. But if it is your wish, then we can perhaps speak more on the matter after we are wed."

"I would also ask that you no longer take residence in a brothel."

Tyrion smiled. "That might be an impossibility for me. I have certain tastes, my Lady."

Sansa shifted nervously as Tyrion smiled again before turning to wave Pod away. She had approached him, come to speak with him about their marriage. And as doomed as he felt that it was, he knew that since his father had decided upon it that there truly was no way around it. Shae was already not speaking to him. And though he seriously considered Bronn's advice - wed one and bed the other - Tyrion felt a powerful sense of respect for the young woman in front of him. Could he bring himself to dishonor Sansa?

"Why are you here, Lady Sansa? I had seriously thought that you'd want to relieve yourself from this match."

She offered him a kind smile before standing to take his empty cup from his hand. For a brief moment, he thought that she was going to fill it with wine. Instead she took a rag and wiped it clean. Walking over to the pitcher of water, she then poured that into his cup.

"I would rather you have a clear mind when we speak, my Lord," Sansa said, bringing the cup back to his desk.

Tyrion smirked as she set it down. He turned to look up at her. "I have very few luxuries on my side. I do not have the height, so I cannot become a knight," he chuckled. "I do not have the physical strength; therefore, I cannot do many things befitting a Lord. What I can do, I do it well. And one of those things is drinking while I talk. To save your ears the debauchery, I will say that another is drinking while I engage in another activity," he finished as Sansa blushed. "Do you plan on taking my one talent away from me?"

"I'm sure you have other talents, my Lord."

Another smile fell upon Tyrion's face before Sansa retreated to her seat. Tyrion obliged her small request and went to drink from his cup. The water was tasteless of course, but he dared not linger on the thought. He found the short sip to be refreshing and wasn't about to inform her of that.

"You could wed one of my cousins," Tyrion informed her of that instead. "They are handsome, younger," he titled his head back and forth, "taller."

"But only _you_ are Lord Tywin's son."

Tyrion snorted at that. "I suppose there is some truth behind that."

"I want to be made Lady of Casterly Rock," Sansa stated.

Tyrion paused in his seat, the air filled with tension slightly as he thought about Sansa's request. He sat there, contemplating the thought. His father may not make him Lord of Casterly Rock but if Sansa went forth with the request, it might just change his father's heart on the matter. There simply was no one else who could take over as Lord of Casterly Rock. Would he name Tommen as his heir?

"I was betrothed to a Prince - who is now the King," Sansa started. "I felt like I would be robbed if I could not at least have this," she said in a gentle tone. "We could both speak to your father and discuss it, together," she pressed.

Tyrion turned the other way and sighed. Sansa's statement had reminded him that she had indeed suffered. Now it was in his hands to settle the matter. He nodded and looked up at her.

"Perhaps as wedding gift, my father might consider it."

* * *

The walk to their chambers had been quiet. Jory could swear he heard Marissa's heart beating wildly. He had gathered from their earlier conversation that she had two older sisters who were already wed. Her mother was still alive. Surely, someone had talked to her about what would happen tonight. From Nysa's earlier actions, he could only assume that the brides had spoken of the bedding ceremony with her. And judging from the way the Frey men tore apart their sisters' and Jeyne's gowns, he was certain that they had experienced one too many a bedding.

He looked Marissa over as they entered. She quickly walked towards a window and stared out of it helplessly. She was worried about the Queen. Jory still believed it to be nervousness.

Jory had just turned to close the doors when two Frey guards had appeared. "Do not worry about it, I brought my bride here," Jory commanded them but they did not move.

Marissa closed her eyes and felt a tear fall down her cheek. No, she thought. They're here to make sure that she didn't say anything. And if she did, then they'd kill him - her husband. She wiped her face quickly and tore her gaze towards the door. Slowly, she walked towards it and pushed it close. Leaning her forehead against the wooden form, she exhaled deeply. She told the Queen beforehand. She had also heard that half of her Uncles weren't going to follow through on the plan. They'd protect the Queen. But what if they were overwhelmed? What if...

Jory touched her shoulder then and she looked back at him.

"There's no need to be frightened of tonight," Jory assured her.

Marissa's heart beat lightly. He appeared to be so concerned about her well-being, asking if she had everything ready for her journey North, if she wanted to take a brother or cousin with her as Arwyn and Roslin were going to do as well. The Queen was right. Despite him being a soldier from the North, he had a gentle side as well. How could she be so fortunate to receive a kind husband?

"If you wish to talk more..."

"No," Marissa shook her head. "Let us go to bed," she looked towards the door before leading Jory towards the bed. They both sat down slowly, her hands in his. "You've done this before, haven't you, my Lord? I mean, Jory," she said quickly.

"Would you be upset with me if I had," Jory questioned. He knew he shouldn't lie about it, but he also didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"A part of me is," Marissa admitted. "On the other hand, that informs me that you know how this will go, so," she paused and looked up shyly at him.

"With two sisters wed, I'm sure you've heard about," he paused and lifted her hand to his mouth, "how this will go," he pressed his lips gently to her skin.

Marissa blushed and pulled her hand free. She stood then and slowly began to peel her dress off. Jory had itched to help her, to feel the first signs of her soft and smooth form. He couldn't believe how quickly he was becoming aroused. Had it been that long since he took a woman to his bed?

Marissa's breathing was harsh as her skin was flushed with heat as the dress fell to the floor. She had just a thin shift on with a tie here and a tie there. One tug and the material would come completely off. But she stood there in front of her husband, feeling the tension burning between their bodies. Jory placed a hand on her waist. It burned, and she nearly felt her knees go weak at the contact.

Jory's other hand reached up to free her hair from her braid. The dark blonde hair flowed around her face as he untangled his fingers. She sighed when he skimmed her neck and let his fingers trail down her body.

She had heard about bedding from her sisters, her mother and of course the Queen. She heard horror stories as well as pleasurable ones.

"You won't do something that I don't want right," Marissa asked before she could stop herself.

Jory shook his head before taking her hands and placing them on his shoulders. "You tell me you don't like it and I'll stop," he stated. "Now, would my wife like to undress me?"

"I," Marissa shifted from one foot to the other. "I'd like to start. And if I'm too nervous to..."

Jory nodded in understanding.

Marissa started with his boots - for she deemed that the safest. She marveled at his body - the scars and roughness of his skin as she moved his tunic from his middle, pass his chest and over his head. All the while, she could feel his eyes watching her. Silently, he took her hand again and placed it on his bare chest, giving her permission to explore.

Pushing gently on him to lay back, Jory did as Marissa urged. He waited - his hardest to be damned patient - as she untied his laces and pulled his breeches down. She gasped as he felt the cool air hit his hard cock. Biting his lip to stop the groan from coming out, he stared at the ceiling - that was until he left her soft fingers touch him there.

"Marissa," he groaned out.

"I'm sorry," she quickly retracted, pushing off the bed and standing a couple steps back.

Jory cursed before wiping his face in frustration. His body was eager, but he had to be patient. "No," he sat up quickly and held out his arms to her, "it is I who should be asking forgiveness from you, my wife." He nodded once more as she slowly came back towards the bed and crawled over his body. She glanced down at his cock before looking at his face in confusion. "It's been so long that the pleasure of having you is growing wild every second."

"Would you rather I just lay back then, husband," she questioned in a total submissive gesture. Jory didn't like it. This is what he was afraid of. This is what Marissa was afraid of. She had heard how husbands rather their wives be quiet and just spread their legs. She was about ready to do the same when Jory placed a hand on hers.

"No, my foolish, precious, young wife," Jory smiled. "I would rather have it if you were willing," he pulled her hand off the hem of her shift and pressed on the fingers, "begging, pleading."

"Oh," she moaned in response.

"What do you want," he sucked gently on her fingers, causing a surge of heat to weave through her.

"I've heard there's pleasure from sharing a bed between man and wife," she whispered as his lips moved down her arm, sending tingles through her. "Will you show me, husband?"

"It'll be both of our pleasures," Jory growled reaching her neck, nibbling on her skin there, "wife."

* * *

Arya ran faster than she thought possible through the hall until she came across Gendry. She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the men who were insisting that he drink some wine - toast to the wedding. He had barely gotten a word out when she began to search his pants.

"Arry," Gendry cursed and tried to push her hands away.

"Needle," she asked, holding out her hand then. He pulled it off from the side of his body before handing it to her in a mock bow. "If you call me 'my Lady' one more time, I'll gut you," she wretched the sword from his grasp and proceeded to take it. "Stop drinking, we're under attack."

"Typical Arry," he rolled his eyes. "I told you earlier this is a wedding feast," he gestured to the halls, "the women are supposed to wear gowns."

Arya grabbed onto his tunic by the collar, pulling him closer towards her. "We may die this night," she gazed at him before pressing a kiss quickly to his lips, "listen to me, for once you stupid bull!" She pushed him back into the dirt. The other men cheered at the kiss. Lyra had just reached her side when Arya turned around and went towards the stables where she had heard they kept her brother's direwolf.

Lyra ran alongside her, punching the nearest man and taking his sword. "Something is happening, isn't it?"

"Rouse every man that isn't drunk. My brother, mother and Nysa are no longer safe," Arya instructed before three Frey men came to a stand in front of her. "As Princess, I demand that you..."

One of them laughed before moving towards her then. She remembered all that Syrio, Dacey and the others had taught her. The man fought hard against her, but Arya was determined.

Her brother was in there. Her mother was in there. Nysa was in there.

She thought about all that she had lost - her father, her home. She wouldn't lose them not anymore. She darted on the side, using speed and agility to her vantage point. Needle was small but perfect for her and she had just maneuvered her way under the Frey guard when his body twisted and fell to the ground. With complete confidence, she jumped onto his body and plunged her sword to his throat - not once, not twice, not even three times. She pierced him with the pointy end until he stopped moving.

This was for her father, for the North.

They weren't going to take anything else away, not this time.

She turned her head to see Lyra Mormont spin on her knees and stick her sword behind her, pushing it one final time into the man's midsection. The other Frey guard already lied to the side - no doubt due to Lyra's efficiency. Lyra smiled as she pulled her sword out from the guard and stood up slowly. She kicked the guard over, causing him to down before she looked back at Arya.

"Well done, Princess."

"You too," Arya nodded before pushing back the doors. She found Grey Wind in there chained like an animal, howling and barking like mad. "I know boy," she smiled with a gleam in her eye that could match his wolfish grin.

Lyra moved the doors completely open just in time to see Arya on the back of Grey Wind.

"Tell them that 'Winter is coming'," Arya said. Grey Wind let out one long howl before taking off. She clung to Grey Wind as he charged out of the castle walls and started calling for his sisters.

* * *

Marissa moaned lightly as Jory's fingers slipped out of her before gliding back in. Her mouth parted beautifully with each thrust of his fingers. Jory growled as she held onto him, her hands clutching tightly onto him as though she never wanted him to let go. He whispered her name, kissing and sucking on her neck, shoulder and slowly made his way to her breasts.

"Jory," she screamed at the sweet torture he was pouring out on her. Something tightened inside with each movement, each kiss, each breath on her skin.

"Give yourself to me, Marissa," Jory mumbled darting his tongue out to take her breasts into his mouth.

"Gods," Marissa moaned, wrapping one of her hands into his hair as he suckled on her. She thought they were only for babes, but Jory was proving her wrong - so desperately, passionately, frustratingly wrong. "I need," she panted and spread her legs wider. "I need..."

"I know what you need," Jory moved his head to her other breast and started to nibble as his fingers picked up speed.

Marissa screamed this time as something broke inside of her, causing her eyes to open wide, her breath to leave her and her body to fly off the bed. When she came back to down from the stars, she ran her fingers up his chest and brought his face up to hers. Jory moaned as she took initiative in the fervent kissing that was to begin. She had been so nervous when they first kissed but now it was obvious that she yearned for it, wanted him closer, wanted something.

Jory's hand trailed down her body, gripping her leg gently, lifting it slowly higher up. He pulled away and let his lips trail down her neck. He didn't stop there. He continued back to her breasts. Again, the thought of a babe ran through her mind. No one told her that there could be so much pleasure if a man suckled them as well. He didn't stay in that spot long and Marissa hummed in annoyance. Pushing herself up to look at why he had moved on.

The kisses on her stomach tickled and made her squirm all over again. It wasn't until his body moved down and settled between her legs that she tensed. "What are you doing?"

"Relax Marissa," Jory's lips nibbled onto her inner thigh, causing her to throw her back. She began to protest in shame. It felt so good, but she couldn't believe that he was going to kiss her there. "You'll enjoy this. I promise it will be worth it," he assured her as she felt his tongue take a long lick.

"Ah, Jory," she gasped and screamed, gripping onto the furs. Her other leg twitched as he continued to pleasure her. She hadn't known it would feel like this, that a husband could show such attention to his wife. She craved more, and it seemed like he was willing to give her everything and anything. She shouted his name as he devoured her, taking in her juices. Lost in the pleasure that he had given her, she felt his body loom over hers and a sudden stinging made her eyes screw shut. "Jory," she grabbed onto his shoulders as he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder.

It's been too long, Jory thought as his cock moved slowly through her. He was certain that he wouldn't last - at least not long enough for her to derive pleasure a third time.

Marissa knew why she had been cautioned, why she had been warned. This was the part of becoming man and wife that would hurt. And yet, she knew if Jory had not prepared her in the beginning that this would have been far worse than it was. It stung a little, more a feeling of discomfort by being stretched by him, than pain. She kept her eyes closed, trying to calm her breath as Jory kissed tears away. Why was she crying?

"It's okay Marissa," Jory continued to press kisses on her face as he thrust slowly in and out. "The pain will pass," he said, "think of the pleasure. Do you want to feel it again?"

"Jory," she pleaded as he pushed himself up to look down at her. He promised then that he'd give her everything - his respect, his admiration, maybe even one day his love. She looked like heaven, she felt like the sweetest warmth that every surrounded him. She felt delicious wrapped around him, whispering his name, begging for more.

"My wife," he leaned down to kiss her neck, pouring himself inside of her with his last few thrusts.

Jory settled himself next to her and to Marissa's extreme relief, he pulled her close to him, allowing her to curl her body to his. Marissa rest her hand against his chest and smiled lightly. "Thank you."

"Whatever for," he asked.

"That was not as bad as I thought it would be - joining together as man and wife," she confessed as he chuckled and moved to press a kiss to her forehead. "You were gentle and..."

"Gentle," Jory chuckled again.

"I was told that I would have to _endure_ the bedding, as though it were something that I wouldn't enjoy," Marissa explained, her fingers moving across his chest as he began to stroke her hair soothingly, realizing what she was explaining. "You put my mind at ease though, husband. You made me feel safe."

"As I always will," he promised as her head turned to smile up at him.

"When can we try again?"

"Sleep for now, wife. Perhaps in the morning."

"Promise," she moved her head to rest on his chest.

"Promise," he kissed her forehead.

* * *

Nysa kept her arms around Robb as she smiled in content at the peaceful moment. It was all too end soon. "Take my sword, Robb," she whispered as he looked at her in confusion. "It's under my skirts." She moved one hand to his chest and rested it there before taking a deep breath. "Are you certain about this, Lord Frey?"

At first, she wasn't certain if he had heard her but then his chuckling confirmed that she had been.

"You took away what should have been mine, Queen bastard," Lord Frey answered as he stood. "I was going to let these four marriages pass," he said as Nysa shook her head, still gazing up into Robb's eyes as the reality of the situation came onto him. "But my sons and your Lords," he added as a few people moved, "insisted that I was robbed of what was owed to me."

"Get out of here, Nysa," Robb whispered to her.

"I'm not leaving you."

Robb release a small growl and turned to look at his mother before wrapping Nysa tighter to him. "You'll die if you stay."

She shook her head. "They've closed the doors. I couldn't leave if I wanted to."

"Traitor," Lady Catelyn's voice was heard as the King and Queen held one another close. "Let them go! My only living son, please I beg of you," she started. "Robb," she called to him. "Let him take his wife and leave. We'll go back and never leave the North again," she pleaded.

"He'll let us go," Nysa stated, reaching up to touch Robb's cheek as he closed his eyes and leaned into her warmth. "Won't you, Lord Frey?"

"My King broke a promise he made to me and his Queen thought she could run my House," he replied.

"I love you," Nysa told Robb quietly.

"And I love you," he opened his eyes and leaned forward to kiss her gently.

Robb pulled her skirts up so quickly that she barely had time to turn around to see Lord Karstark stand protectively in front of her, sword drawn and pointing towards Lord Frey. A few of the Karstark guards stood by his side, protecting her as well. She stared with wide eyes as she saw one of Lord Frey's sons grab onto Lady Catelyn and place a dagger at her throat. Only it wasn't one of Lord Frey's sons - it was Lord Bolton.

"Traitor," Nysa shouted as Robb gestured with her sword towards Lord Bolton.

"Let her go, Bolton!"

Lord Bolton raised a quizzical eyebrow at the King and Queen of the North before digging his dagger into Lady Catelyn's skin. It had just pierced her flesh causing a small trickle of blood flowed down as Nysa shouted at him. He pulled her body back as he moved towards a door.

"You forget your place, Bolton," Lord Glover came to stand at Robb's side.

Others gathered to form a protective circle around one another. Dacey, Smalljon and other guards who had not participated in the ceremony grabbed whatever they could. Chairs, torches and even knives on the table were used to defend themselves. At the moment none of them had their swords or weapons and Nysa wondered how they were going to get out of this, especially since the Freys had all the steel. If Ser Stevron or the other Freys were truly on her side, they hadn't made their presence known.

"You forget yours," Lord Bolton shouted back at them.

"You chose me as your King," Robb stated. "You bent the knee and pledge your loyalty. And even if you didn't, that's the wife of your previous liege Lord, now she is your liege Lord's mother, if you don't release her now, Bolton - there will be no place for you to hide from me."

Nysa stood there, concentrating all that she could on Lord Bolton. The fire in the hall flickered. Ever since Bran - through Lady - had told her that it could do so much more, there were nights she had practiced her 'gift' after everyone had slept at the Twins.

A small gasp escaped her lips as the flames from the candles lifted away from the melted max. The orange from the torches danced down the walls and surrounded the hall.

"Let her go, Lord Bolton," Nysa said this time. "This is your last warning," she felt the heat crawling through her fingertips, felt it moving over the cracks in the walls as though they were a part of her skin rubbing against the stone.

"I think this be your last warning, girl," Lord Frey replied with a chuckle. "I'm the one with all the swords," he gestured as Ser Stevron and the others stood then.

Nysa turned her head to see them advance on her, Robb and the other Northmen.

"None of you have to die," Nysa stated as the Freys began to laugh. "You bent the knee to your King. You chose Robb Stark as your King," she repeated, glancing towards Lord Bolton. "Apologize," she smiled and stepped forward, past Lord Karstark and the others as the fire filled within her, "and perhaps we can overlook this little transgression."

"Transgression," one of the Freys laughed again, "you're the one who broke an oath to House Frey!"

"What sort of King breaks a promise to his Lords," questioned another Frey.

Before Nysa could open her mouth to reply, she noticed that a few of the Northmen were thrown swords and weapons by Ser Stevron and his company. "And the Queen made amends," Ser Stevron came to stand by their group then, giving her a slight nod. "Lady to Seagard, Lady to Riverrun, Lady to Harrenhal," he repeated, "the Queen gave House Frey that, father," he looked towards the high table. "Think of how happy she has made your daughters, your granddaughters, your wife!"

"My wife," Lord Frey scoffed. "Why the sudden affection for our women?"

Lady Frey stood up then and turned to look at him. "Because a happier wife makes for a happier life, my Lord husband," she cried out, holding a dagger to her throat. "If you cared about me or the child that I carry, then you'll stop this madness."

"Go on," he waved his hand at her, "do you think you're irreplaceable?"

Lady Joyeuse should have known that that was and would always be his reply. But if her time with the Queen taught her anything, it was that as Lady of a great House, she demanded respect. She looked behind her, noticing something in the shadows, before glancing back at her husband.

"Do you think _you_ are irreplaceable," she questioned, lowering the dagger, her face growing serious.

Lord Frey turned towards his young wife then. "What do you..." He began to choke, his wrinkly fingers lifting towards his throat. Slowly, Arya appeared from behind his chair, moving until she stood on the side of him. She tightened the small piece of silk in her hand, watching as Lord Frey lifted a hand towards her weakly and pathetically.

"Unhand my mother, Bolton," Arya demanded as she pulled on the silk again.

"Or what, Princess," Lord Bolton scoffed.

A sudden growl was heard behind the high table followed by another and then a third. Lord Bolton's eyes widened as three direwolves appeared in the hall, advancing on him.

"Now," Bolton shouted as archers appeared on the top balcony, releasing arrows down on the crowd in the hall.

At the same time, Nymeria led the charge, tackling Lord Bolton with such precision that Lady Catelyn was freed from his grasp. Robb immediately flown to his mother's side before he heard a whimper and another growl. Grey Wind got up slowly, arrows stuck in his side and looked up at the offenders. Nymeria had slowed in her pursuit of Lord Bolton as well, as an arrow had hit her. The second wave of arrows were prepared to fly.

The fire this time had been set free. Before the archers had time to aim, fire climbed the walls towards them, engulfing them in flames. Another large flame burst on one side of the wall, overwhelming three members of House Frey who had begun to attack Dacey, Smalljon and Lord Glover. Nysa's outstretched hand was directing the fire towards the archers.

Nymeria and Lady ran through the hall - pushing through their pain to protect their Stark companions. Despite the archers being out of the way, they were still outnumbered. It would be easier to escape. Nysa went to one of the doors in the hall and pushed the flames with her hands, hoping to burn the handles off and open a way of escape for them. Her concentration was on their escape that she didn't notice Lord Bolton had come across her then.

His arm wrapped around as he lifted a dagger in his other hand.

Before she could grab onto a flame, Lord Bolton groaned and fell back, releasing her quickly.

She turned to see Lord Karstark had stabbed Lord Bolton in the leg.

"Go on, girl," Lord Karstark told her. "Get out of here!"

Nysa turned back towards the door, but it wouldn't budge. An arrow hit the wood, inches away from her. Harrion came by her with the help of two other Frey knights. "Protect our Queen," Harrion shouted as they fought off the guards, every now and then holding up shields to deflect arrows that were coming their way.

She searched the crowd for Robb - fighting to protect his injured mother. Lady Catelyn was a strong person and looked with wide eyes towards the table as Arya fought a Frey who had planned to save his father. "Get to the Princess," Nysa instructed the three men around her.

That small moment of being alone had left her open again for Lord Bolton. Lord Karstark thrust his sword out in front of her, keeping Lord Bolton from hitting her. Nysa gripped her chest as Lord Karstark fought him. She was scared for him. And the sudden fear had exhausted the heat in her. She stretched out her hands, desperate for it to cling onto the flames that were nearby.

"No," she shook her head as Lord Bolton hit Lord Karstark, causing him to fall on the ground.

Please, oh Gods, please, she begged in her, screaming that the heat start back up again. But her body felt cold. It wasn't coming.

"No," Nysa shouted as Lord Bolton brought his sword down on Lord Karstark. The older Lord lifted his sword to defend himself, but she knew he couldn't manage it on his own.

She groaned in annoyance, her hands and fingers grabbing onto nothing. The flames that were burning bright were now turning dull. She had to do something, she had to. Robb had her sword. Her head lifted to see Greatjon Umber shot down with two arrows. He groaned and pushed himself up to continue his attack. Harrion was protecting Arya but who would protect his father?

This time she was scared, feeling the breath leave her. She tried one last time to reach for the flames.

It wouldn't come.

"Your sons, Rickard," Lord Bolton shouted.

Nysa turned then to look at Lord Karstark, panting and tired, laying on the ground with his head turned towards hers. He gave her the briefest of smiles and she could have sworn it looked exactly like Torrhen.

"No," she whispered in horror.

"You may have wed a Stark, but you were always a Karstark at heart," Lord Karstark nodded to her just as Lord Bolton lifted his sword.

"No," she shouted and lunged forward, but it was too late.

Lord Karstark gasped as the sword plunged into his chest. His head turning to look upwards as blood filled his mouth.

Nysa dropped to her knees, releasing a loud screech. All the pain and sorrow built up as she saw Lord Karstark's breath leave him. The pain of him never being in her life hit her harder than she thought it would.

 _"Why are you scared, girl," Lord Karstark barked._

 _"The seals. Is it true that..."_

 _"No seal will get you here," he answered her._

All these memories began to flood her mind. The first time Torrhen had dropped a seal in front of her - Lord Karstark had walked up behind him and plainly stated that nothing would harm her, not as long as he and his sons were around to hunt down the beast.

 _"Both Lady Mariah and the child are just fine. You have a daughter, Lord Karstark," Nysa smiled at him as he hurried past her._

 _Just before he entered the room, he paused and looked at Nysa. "Thank you, girl. I am forever grateful."_

From the moment, she had arrived, she thought everyone was wrong for thinking Lord Stark was a strict man. She thought that Lord Karstark's demeanor was cold and distant. But she had seen it around Karhold - the way he helped his sons, guided them, instructed them. She believed he didn't care but she had witnessed it - his gentleness with Alys, his affection for his wife, his respect for Lord Stark - and by consequence, his respect for her as a maiden in Lord Stark's household.

Lord Karstark covering her with another fur cloak as she prayed in the godswood to give her strength to help Lady Mariah, the gloves he had made for her when she was too cold to venture out to the bay or the way he insisted that she eat at their table. The memory of him standing outside her door one night - after he caught her and Torrhen locked in an embrace - with a guard from House Karstark who would chaperone her during her visits.

 _"It would be disrespectful should my son bring dishonor to a maiden under Lord Stark's care," Lord Karstark added._

 _"I would not want to bring dishonor to House Karstark," she curtsied. "If I have done anything wrong, I apologize for..."_

 _"You've done nothing wrong, girl, except grow into a young woman," he insisted before gesturing for Waylyn to stand at her door._

They were small moments, small memories, small incidents, but they were more than she deserved. He had accepted her as part of his House, part of his family - whether he said it out loud or not. She recalled as he had welcomed her to Karhold, to the moments he reassuringly comforted her. She saw Torrhen going to stand before his father, pleading for him to grant his blessing in asking Nysa for her hand. This man would have become her father and in some way, he already was.

The grief took complete hold of her, igniting the heat from her heart and allowing it to bear its flame. Everyone stopped and turned to look at her then. Her normally cool, blue eyes burned violet. Her screeching turning louder and unbearable as it filled the room. Her arms spread out and her fingers curled until the flame departed her body and grew before them. It stood high in the room, touching the ceiling.

"Gods," a few of them cursed and fell to the floor as the flame took shape.

A spark slithered out, like the head of a snake. The flames formed a large body standing above Nysa and spreading out in the image of wings, covering over the Queen of the North and the Trident. The sparked head, slithered towards Lord Bolton - releasing a roar as Nysa's body slowly lifted off the ground.

She glanced down at the body of Lord Karstark - the father she never had - and released another ear-wrenching screech as the dragon-formed flame charged after Lord Bolton in fury. One of the Frey men pulled Lord Bolton through one of the doors in escape as the dragon paused and roared in frustration before turning loose in the Twins.

The grief consumed Nysa and fed the flame. Her eyes were blurred with tears, her heart constricted in turmoil. Another Karstark dead - another person she held so dear. She was tired of it, tired of seeing people she loved disappear and for what? Her head lifted as she felt the flame move, her muscles reacting and her emotions pouring out.

Nysa's body leaned forward as she sobbed and shouted, the flaming dragon pushing through the halls, leaving burnt scratches on the walls as it roared and clawed its way through.

Ser Perwyn, Olyvar and one of their nephews, who had gathered loyal Frey together and were fighting alongside those from House Bracken and House Blackwood paused as they saw the creature of flames tore down their path.

Those of the North who were fighting outside had stopped as well to look at the creature fly above the twins, roaring in anguish before attacking. Several Frey and Bolton guards were left burning - screaming for mercy. But they found none as the dragon continued its massacre.

"Nysa," Lady Catelyn shouted, pleading up at her. "It's alright," she told the young woman. "Look at me, Nysa," she urged as Nysa's violet eyes turned towards her. "Everything is alright now."

The flaming dragon died at the water's edge as Nysa slumped back. An eerie feeling settled on the Twins as they watched their Queen - who was screaming earlier, controlling flames - looking as though she were about to pass out. Her body swayed slightly and her eyes fluttered open and close.

Lady Catelyn was the first to rush towards her. Smalljon and Harrion were next. Her body shook before she fell to her side, on the ground, Smalljon catching her just in time.

"What is it? Is she okay," Robb hurried to her side.

Lady Catelyn moved to sit beside her, picking up Nysa's head to look at the young woman. "It was too much for her."

"You knew she could do this," Robb stared at his mother before turning back to his wife. "Nysa?"

"I feel like I can't breathe," Nysa answered.

"Nysa," Robb grabbed her from Smalljon's arms and cradled her to his chest.

"Robb," she moved to touch his face, only to have her hand drop down.

She felt so tired now, as though all the life had left her. Nysa felt drained and unable to control her body. She told herself to wake, that it was okay. But she didn't fell okay. Desperately, her arm twitched as she attempted to move but it was of no use. Her body was too weak from the exertion.

Men from the Riverland's and the North poured in then, along with a few Frey guards who were loyal to her and Robb. They looked on as the Queen's eyes closed, her head falling back against the King's hands and her body growing limp.

"Nysa," Robb pleaded for her to respond.

Lady Catelyn lifted her hands from Nysa's dress, showing the blood that was coated there. "The babe," his mother whispered as Robb shook his head.

"No, Gods no! Don't take her," Robb pleaded, pushing his hands over her sweat-covered face. "Nysa," he began to sob as everyone shouted and moved around him to get the Queen some help. "Please, Nysa don't leave me," he begged, holding her tightly.

He couldn't feel her warmth. He couldn't feel the heat. She felt so cold.

No, Robb begged for her eyes to open, caressing her face.

She had to live.

If she didn't, he was sure he wouldn't survive either.

* * *

Jory stood by the window, looking out at the water surrounding the Twins. It was such a peaceful morning, one that held such promise for him and his future. He had been uncertain when he heard of his Uncle's death. What about his cousin back in the North? What had become of Beth? Was she spared or among those who were killed by the Ironborn? He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

 _***Flashback***_

 _"Captain of the Guards, your father would have been proud," Lord Stark slapped him on the shoulder._

 _"Jory," Nysa rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his legs, "my brother," she smiled up at him._

 _"You have a family to protect now, Jory," Lord Stark smiled as Nysa reached on her toes to give her brother a kiss before scurrying away to play with Robb and Jon._

 _"How do you do it, Lord Stark? How do you care and provide for a family," Jory questioned._

 _"It is a challenging task, one I remember informing you that you'd have challenges on."_

 _"She's a good girl," Jory nodded towards Nysa. "Still, I worry for her safety, her future."_

 _"That's why you need to find a wife, Jory," Lord Stark turned to him. Jory looked at Lord Stark before realizing that his gaze was on something past Jory's shoulder. He turned to see Lord Stark looking upon Lady Stark as she carried Arya in her arms and Sansa tugged on her dress. "I had to learn to love my wife - something I hope that you never have to go through. That has challenges all its own. But the moment I covered her in a Stark cloak, I took her under my protection - she became my family. I lost my father, brother and sister. But I had gained so much," he gestured towards Robb who was playing before nodding once again to his lady wife. "In a world that is dominated by man, you'll find that it holds little to nothing of importance unless there was a strong and affectionate woman by his side."_

 _"What are you speaking of, Lord husband?"_

 _They both turned to see Lady Catelyn walking towards them. Arya shifted in the lady's arms towards her father and Lord Stark took her gladly. "About family," Lord Stark answered before pressing a chaste kiss to his wife's lips._

Jory turned away - both in memory and in reality - to gaze at the young woman lying bare under the furs. She was his, and he was hers. They were a family now. Though, he'd do anything to avenge his Uncle and cousin. He had gained another family. And just as Lord Stark had, he knew that he would protect her with all costs.

She moaned lightly and turned her head, reaching her hand up on the cushion were his head had rest moments ago.

"Good morning," he said as Marissa's eyes shot open at his voice. She sat up quickly and looked at him. The furs falling around her waist. He took a deep breath as a smile crept across her lips and a blush tinted her cheeks.

"Good morning, husband," she replied before glancing about the room. "Have you been awake long?"

"No," he shook his head. "Would you like to come here and see the sun rise with me?"

Marissa nodded before arching her back, stretching out her stiff muscles. Jory cleared his throat and tried to keep in the groan that threatened to leave him. "You might not want to do that, wife," he growled before he could help himself.

"I'm merely stretching."

"Aye," he nodded, letting his eyes roam her naked form. "But may I remind you that moving in such a way, with nothing on," he added as she looked down quickly at her body, "is arousing me rather quickly."

Marissa blushed again as she pushed back one of the furs and rest on her side. She had heard that some women appear seductive this way and for a moment, she wanted to feel the pleasure she felt last night - and in the middle of the night. "Perhaps I want you aroused," she purred, propping her head up with her hand.

Jory groaned and shifted his stance.

"You did promise you'd take me in the morning."

Jory chuckled. "If I recall correctly, my wife woke me up in the middle of the night because she could not wait until morning," he teased.

The blush on her cheeks made him smile. Gods, she was easy to please and eager to please him in return. Their conversations were not forced or rehearsed. He found that he liked that she would be by his side. The future looked promising. She warmed his heart, made him feel light. Yes, she was his family now.

"You make me happy, Jory," she admitted with a small smile. "I never thought my marriage would be this," she paused, "well this good. I mean I know that we still must go North," Marissa looked down at the bed, "and that there is much to do at Greenhall. And Winter is coming, there are challenges to face, but I like that you'll be by my side through it all. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jory smiled and nodded. "I feel the same, Marissa," he said in a soft tone, making her blush wildly.

"Will you come and join me," her eyes twinkled.

He smiled again before looking away. "Perhaps later. I've worked up quite an appetite. I was hoping you and I could break our fast together first. Are you hungry," he asked, moving from the window and walking towards the bed. "Or perhaps you are in need a bath," he gave her a small smile. "I could call a maid, if you wish."

Just then her eyes grew wide and she looked in panic at the door.

"I too wondered why they had not arrived, yet," Jory chuckled. "I know it is early, but I thought that for sure your grandfather would want to see the sheets," he said as he came to stand in front of her. "Marissa, is everything okay?"

The joy that was present earlier had vanished. It was replaced with a pale expression filled with fear.

"Marissa," Jory asked her again.

"I am so sorry, my lord husband," she began.

Where had the sudden title come from? They had been getting along so well. He thought surely, that they had been on friendly terms.

"I don't know how to explain it."

"Explain what," he questioned, not liking the tears on her face or the fright in her eyes.

Marissa shook her head, gripping the sheets and furs around her, pulling them to her chest. "I can't..."

"Marissa!"

She flinched at the angry and loud tone that came from her husband - the man who had moments ago shared a teasing moment with her, who treated her kindly and gently. All traces of their earlier growing affection seemed to be gone. She should have known that she'd never find a loving husband. Those were just stories that the Queen had told her. He'd raise his fist to her now.

"Marissa," he climbed on top of the bed in a flash and took a hold of her arms in his hand.

"You're hurting me," she cried as his grip tightened on her.

"Why did you apologize earlier? What did you do? Tell me!"

"It's not what I did," Marissa sobbed, looking up into her husband's eyes. "My grandfather betrayed your sister and the King," she said as he quickly released her, jumping off the bed and running towards the door. "They planned to assassinate them during the bedding," she added as he paused at the doorway.

Jory turned to look at her.

She couldn't recognize the man who stood there in his place. It was like the gentle man she had wed was truly gone.

"If anything happened to my sister," he looked her up and down, "you are no family to me."

He turned on his heels and marched out of the room, leaving Marissa sobbing on her bed.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

 _"She did it again," a woman's frightened voice stated._

 _"Our ancestors had been known to possess such a gift," a man's voice explained. "There is nothing wrong with her," he continued, "she's our daughter. Ours, you hear me? It's a gift, not a curse."_

 _"What if your father uses her to..."_

 _"I won't allow it."_

 _The child giggled - like any little child would - and buried herself on her parent's bed, patting the feathered cushions as her parents looked back at her. The father smiled as the mother's eyes glistened with sadness. The mother looked away from the child's innocence and wrapped her arms around herself._

 _"How can you be so sure? I've seen the look in his eyes when she does it, this hunger for her gift."_

 _The child threw the sheets over her head, hiding under them, watching as her father took her mother in his arms lovingly._

 _"Do not worry about it, wife," he said quietly and reassuringly. "I will protect our daughter. We have the guards as well. They'll die for her. Nothing will happen to our precious princess."_

Nysa drifted in her sleep, her eyes fluttering behind closed lids as dream upon dream built on each other. She kept coming back to that one scene. It felt so distant and so desirable - she wanted to hold onto it forever. The love and concern she felt moving between the two people in her dream as they looked at their little daughter, burying herself under the sheets playfully - without a care in the world. Was that her and Robb - a dream of the future? Was that her and Torrhen - a dream that would never happen? Perhaps that was a memory of her father and mother - a dream desired? Or could it have been Lord and Lady Stark - a dream of something past? She could not tell.

Her mouth parted and what felt like heat, filled her lungs and flowed through her body as though it were in her blood. She took in a deep breath, feeling her body being pulled toward the light as the two smiling figures from her dream disappeared.

"Nysa," a voice called to her.

"Mama," she whispered, feeling her body lighten as her eyes blinked open. The light adjusted quickly and she looked to see a woman leaning over her. "Mother," she asked again.

Slowly the figure came into focus - the dark auburn hair and rosy cheeks with that kind smile. It wasn't her mother but it was one of the many who she considered to be so. "There you are," Lady Catelyn smiled down at her, stroking her hair from her face.

There were tears of concern and relief on the older woman. Quickly, Nysa's eyes scanned her face and looked over to see a bandage wrapped around Lady Catelyn's neck - the memories of last night coming back to her.

"Are you well?"

"Am I well," Lady Catelyn choked back what could be between a sob and a laugh as she pressed a kiss to Nysa's forehead. "Dear girl, we were all worried about you. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," she smiled lightly in response before her eyes closed again.

"Do you need some water? Get the Queen some water, Merianne."

"Marissa," Nysa turned towards the voice and reached out her hand.

"Yes, my Queen," Marissa's hand took hold of Nysa's and held it close to her.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be," Nysa paused and took a deep breath.

"Save your voice," Marissa instructed as Nysa felt something cool touch her lips.

A few pairs of hands pressed against her back while another cupped around her neck, lifting her body up to a sitting position. Lady Catelyn moved in the back to support her as did Lyra Mormont while Merianne tilted the cup so that she could drink the cool water. It flowed through her as though her body were dry. She gulped greedily, feeling her body being refreshed and a sudden spark deep in the center of her body, twitching and sparking. It was like the water was fueling the fire within her - it was odd and a tad confusing but she continued to drink, asking for another cup which she took to again.

"If you desire more water, we could always throw you in the river, my Queen."

A few giggles filled the room.

"Oh, hush," Nysa scolded, turning her head to see Harrion Karstark waiting for permission to enter the room further.

She wanted to say that she was surprised that he would be here but she knew that Robb must have been handling matters with House Frey and that Jory would be assisting. That could account for Lady Catelyn and Marissa's presence here with her, instead of her husband and brother. Immediately, she sobered and her smile disappeared at seeing the familiar face.

"Bolton," she questioned.

Harrion's face hardened as he approached the bed. "He's gone."

"Gone?"

"I've sent men out to find him - Lord Daryn Hornwood, Robett Glover and Ser Wylis Manderly are among those heading North."

Nysa closed her eyes and thought of Lord Hornwood then, remembered the sight she came upon when seeing him locked in the cells of Harrenhal. With his father's death, Daryn had become Lord of Hornwood. And since he was betrothed to Alys, it would only make sense that he would ride back to hunt down the traitor who murdered her father. And now, just like Daryn, Harrion is Lord because of the death of Lord Karstark.

So many good men, Nysa thought.

"Why to the North," asked Lady Catelyn.

"Because we're certain that that is where he will run, my Lady," Harrion answered.

She turned her attention back to him. "Do you wish to go," Nysa questioned.

Harrion and her stared at one another - both determined. His hand moved and Nysa noticed that it clutched his father's sword. "I intend to see this to the finish, my Queen," he stated. "The Lords know that I want Bolton's head. The King has given me the honor to execute him."

"As he should," Nysa pushed herself up, feeling the anger and grief helping to encourage her determination. "Harrion, you should go back home. If Bolton truly headed North, you must think of your mother, your sister. You're all that they have left."

"Daryn will protect my sister. He is her betrothed. And when I return North to give her away, she will be his wife."

"And what of Karhold," Nysa asked. "What of your mother?"

Harrion sighed and looked down, shaking his head. "The Lord of Karhold and his sons set out to free the Lord of Winterfell, free the North from this Southern hostility. I am Karhold's Lord now. The mission hasn't changed."

"Harrion..."

"There are still the deaths of my brothers to avenge."

"Harrion," Nysa felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Please. I'm begging you. Go home."

"Forgive me, Nysa," his eyes began to water but he shook his head and took a step back. "As I said, I intend to finish what my father started."

Nysa wanted to say more, a part of her wanted to command Harrion to return home. He couldn't stay and continue to fight. She didn't want to allow it. Not after his father's death.

Lady Catelyn could see the argument that was about to start and decided to intervene. "What of the others, my Lord?"

The newest Lord of Karhold turned towards her. "The King is executing the traitors now, my Lady."

"Help me get up," Nysa said, wincing a little at the pain. Her hand immediately went to her stomach and she rubbed the swelling there, joy and relief filling her as she felt her child move. Her head looked over at Lady Catelyn and smiled brightly.

Lady Catelyn nodded and reached out to rest her hand on top of Nysa's. "The babe is resilient - just as it's mother is." She pushed Nysa's shoulder gently. "Despite the good news, I don't think my son would appreciate it if you were to leave this bed at the moment."

"No, I must," Nysa insisted.

Lady Tyta had been the first to react. "It's too dangerous, my Queen."

"You should know all about that," Harrion snapped towards the voice.

Arya - who Nysa didn't know had been in the room - jumped up, standing in front of the Frey woman. "Lady Tyta got me in and out of the hall. I was able to get the direwolves in," Arya stated with her chin held high.

"Regardless of what she did, Princess," Harrion snarled, "the Queen shouldn't have so much Freys surrounding her," he gestured to the women in the room.

Nysa turned pale and looked over to see Lady Joyeuse in the room as well. But the reason for her sudden fright was not due to the fact that there were a few of the Frey women in the room with her. They were about to execute Frey guards - husbands and sons who belonged to the women she befriended these past few weeks. She pushed back the sheets, the furs and also the people who insisted that she stay in bed to rest.

"Get me a robe," she pointed towards the chair as Shirei quickly went to do as she was told. Nysa turned slowly, pushing away the pain - inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. "Thank you, Shirei," she said as the robe was slipped over her shoulders.

"My Queen..."

"Where is Ser Stevron? I want to speak with him," she said. Nysa paused as everyone stood still in the room. She slowly turned and looked back at them. Suddenly a couple of them began to cry and weep. She noticed Roslin and Arwyn were in the room as well - one of them sporting a bleeding lip. "What is that," she lifted her hand towards Arwyn.

"My husband discovered my father's betrayal earlier this morning," Arwyn replied before smiling. "Do not worry, my Queen. I gave him as good as I got."

"Good," Nysa nodded. "I won't tolerate such mistreatment - especially since we are alive because of you three, because of you," Nysa looked towards her good-sister. "And what of my brother? Did he do the same to you?"

Marissa looked down and away from her. "He used his words."

"Well, I am about to have a few words with him myself," Nysa swirled around so quickly that all of them worried about her health. She brushed them off and threw the door open, walking down the hall as Nymeria and Lady quickly appeared at either side of her. Arya, Lyra, Tyta and Harrion followed closely behind. "No one answered my question about Ser Stevron."

"He is dead, your Grace," Tyta answered as Nysa's steps faltered slightly. She gripped her chest before continuing to walk.

"By whose hand?"

"No one is saying," Tyta replied.

"Did anyone see..."

"Dacey went to help him," Lyra answered, "when she saw that he was overwhelmed by his own kin. Unfortunately, she got there too late, my Queen. Ser Perwyn, however, was able to save her before _all_ of the men turned on her."

Nysa paused then and turned to look at Tyta. "I am sorry."

Tyta put on a small smile before shaking her head and looking down. "Perwyn is not the only one who had defend himself against our kin, my Queen."

The young Queen looked down, her hand coming to rest against her stomach before she felt intense grief fill her. Ser Stevron had been her champion in House Frey - her defender, her most loyal knight. He was killed by his son and for what, she thought. All of it was because she and Robb were wed? But she had made things right, set matters straight. She remembered Ser Stevron coming to her side, ready to fight and die for her. And he did. Lord Karstark had died for her. Lord Bolton had killed him. Lord Bolton and Lord Frey had orchestrated this. She rubbed her stomach again - orchestrated to kill her and her child.

"Harrion," she called for him as he stepped forward. "Bring forth my sword."

* * *

Sansa Stark was holding a gown - the gown Tyrion could only assume would be her wedding gown. She smiled and touched the fabric. He was right when he told Shae that he would have had to been blind to not notice how pretty Sansa was. _Shae_.

Tyrion shook his head and took a deep breath before entering the room where Sansa sat with Margery Tyrell and a few of her ladies.

"Ladies," Tyrion cleared his throat.

"My Lord Tyrion," Margery Tyrell stood and curtsied, followed by the others, including his intended bride.

She held a polite smile, her demeanor being modest and courteous. She didn't fit amidst the scheming Tyrell maiden. However, Tyrion ignored that briefly and would speak to Sansa about that later. He didn't want to presume to order her about. But there was something odd about their relationship.

"Forgive me for intruding upon your privacy, but I would like a word with my future bride," Tyrion requested.

Margery took Sansa's hand in hers and leaned forward to kiss the younger woman on the cheek. "But of course you may have Sansa," she turned to Tyrion, "only for a quick moment. We were just about to do the final fitting for her wedding gown."

Tyrion bowed his head and turned to the side, waiting for Sansa to depart from the room first. He followed behind her until they were down the hall. It was then that he noticed, she paused in her pace, allowing him to catch up. He nodded in appreciation before holding up his hand, urging her to continue on.

"May I say that you look very pretty today, my Lady. Is that a new gown you are wearing?"

She smiled. "No."

"Oh," he lifted an eyebrow and studied her from the side. "Something is different."

"My hair."

Tyrion paused, causing Sansa to stop as well. She looked to him as he searched her form before his eyes landed on the top of her head. "You chose not to braid it, today?"

Sansa's lips twitched slightly before she nodded. "My mother would often leave her hair like this," she moved a strand to play with the ends.

Tyrion finding himself entranced by the movement, reached out his hands and did the same. They were soft - softer than he expected it to be. He hated that his mind immediately went to compare Sansa and Shae. Fiddling with the ends of the hair he found a small sense of peace and contentment - something small that was missing with Shae - before glancing up at her. A shocked expression was on her brow. The action was probably too familiar, but he found that he did not care. He enjoyed it - touching a maiden's hair that had never tangled in another's hands. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts that had crept in before taking a step back.

"Forgive me," he glanced down the hall. "You should never doubt your beauty, Lady Sansa."

"Thank you, my Lord."

He bowed his head and then held up his hand so they could continue walking.

"You wished to speak with me on something important?"

"Yes," Tyrion answered.

"We are still to wed tomorrow, my Lord?"

He chuckled. "Yes, we are. I'm afraid there's no getting out of that. My father just informed me that there was another wedding. Your mother's brother, Edmure Tully became heir to Riverrun. Your grandfather, Lord Tully, has passed."

Sansa nodded as she had heard the news a while back. She hardly knew the man. She had never left the North until recently. And on their journey South, King Robert hadn't stopped there.

Tyrion noted that she hadn't claimed outright that her mother, brother or other kin were 'traitors'. He smiled internally and thought that that was a grand start. "He is to wed someone from House Frey. The wedding is probably taking place as we speak."

"Of course," Sansa nodded, not sure if she was displeased with missing the event or with news of another young maiden wedding someone from a great House.

"And so that brings us to our current predicament."

"Do not speak ill of our wedding," Sansa glanced at him before looking ahead.

"I'm not, my Lady. It's to be a grand event - regardless of whom the groom is. However, I know that this is not particularly something you'd be anticipating."

"You are too cruel, my Lord. I like to think about the marriage that is to follow after," she commented. "The wedding will always be dictated by the crown. But our marriage," she shook her head. "Are you here because your father has given you an answer?"

Tyrion gestured for her to enter into one of the many gardens in Kings Landing. They found a bench where she could sit. She glanced down the walkway and noticed that Lord Tyrion's squire and another man - a guard most likely - were following at a modest distant. She blushed slightly before turning towards Lord Tyrion who stood in front of her.

"I fear something terrible is going to happen, my Lady," he said in a grave tone. "My father seems to think that our child could become heir to the North."

Judging from Sansa's startled expression, Tyrion knew she had not heard of it nor did she quite understand the situation at hand.

"With your brother at war, there's always a chance for him to die," Tyrion explained. "There is no news of your other brothers. I'm sure you know that the Ironborn have burned Winterfell." She nodded. "And your younger sister is traveling with your brother and mother. Which means that you are the only..."

"The only Stark left," Sansa finished with a flicker of recognition. "Your father wants to wait until Robb's army is attacked before naming an heir." Her eyes narrowed at him. "He'd want your child to be named heir of Winterfell, is that it?"

Tyrion could see her anger growing. In a way it made him feel better about himself. She was learning to speak her mind, express her feelings - and all of that was in front of him. It was like she had come to trust him. He smiled and reached forward to take her hands in his.

"There must always be a _Stark_ in Winterfell," Sansa replied.

"And there will be," he responded softly, glancing up at her. "However, I will ask my father if perhaps you and I could still move to Casterly Rock. I could be relieved of my duty on the small council," he shrugged, "which is something that I do not particularly enjoy. But it will get you out of Kings Landing," he added in a whisper as she straightened. Yes, he thought, the idea of leaving the Capital sounded pleasing to her. "Would that make you feel better, my Lady?"

"Aye," Sansa nodded. "It would."

* * *

Every person was quiet as Nysa walked out into the yard. Robb went to stop her but she immediately took his hand in hers and gave him a brief smile.

"I am alright, Robb," she answered before looking at the Frey men who were about to be hanged. "Release them," she repeated.

Robb didn't like it. He wanted to take Nysa back inside to their rooms and lock her up, keep her safe. There were still too many Frey men present - though they swore their allegiance to Robb, he knew they could turn on an instant - especially with the execution of so many kin. Reluctantly, Robb nodded towards Greatjon who cursed and ordered his men to release the Frey men.

Slowly, one by one they came to stand in front of Nysa and Robb. Nysa let go of his hand and walked towards them. Her steps and movements were slow but she could feel herself drawing strength from the fire burning in the yard. Bran was right - she could do so much more with her gift. She smiled as she came to stand in front of Black Walder. He narrowed his eyes at her before spitting on the ground beside her feet in disgust.

Smalljon, Harrion and two others drew their swords but Nysa quickly put up her hand to stop them.

"My Lords and Ladies, knights and maidens who are present," she announced loudly. "I found out that Ser Stevron is dead. You do not know how much of you owe your lives to him on this day," she smiled and looked about the yard. "He taught me that there was strength and power in House Frey, that every man had his worth," she continued as she turned slowly away from Black Walder to look at his father. "I came to respect Ser Stevron. He served as one of my personal guards for some time, even gave me advice and counsel on being a Queen - _your Queen_ ," she shouted the last part as silence filled the yard. "And because I came to admire such a respectful knight, I feel that I will respect his son," she nodded towards Ser Ryman, "and his grandsons," she nodded towards Black Walder.

She gestured to have all of the Frey men who had been set to hang for their treason to be set free. A few of them muttered in confusion while the others cheered, thanking her for her graciousness.

Nysa held up her hand and silenced them. Robb noticed then that Arya had come out behind him. Growling softly in the shadows were Nymeria and Lady.

"Unfortunately, I remember telling you, Lord Frey," she looked up to where they had sat him, "that if you released us, that I would spare your lives."

"My Queen..."

"You laughed at me," she smiled before breaking out into a small laugh as well, "you all laughed at me. I said if you apologized that I'd overlook this transgression," she said turning towards Lord Frey. He remained silent. "Nothing to say?" She smiled again as he held his head high. "Arya," she instructed.

"Nymeria," Arya commanded as the wolves flew past Robb - Grey Wind included - and began to attack the Frey men who were there.

"Mercy, my Queen," Lord Frey shouted as the screams of his sons and grandsons filled the air.

"They killed their own kin," Nysa smiled as Lady took down one of Lord Frey's sons.

"Forgive me!"

"Did you instruct your sons to kill Ser Stevron knowing that he was fiercely loyal to the King and I," Nysa questioned, looking on as Nymeria chased down the men, snapping at their limbs. "Your heir and first-born son, Lord Frey," she said. "I remember Lady Catelyn begging for you to spare her first-born son, asking you to allow Robb to leave. Did you enjoy her screams," she looked at Lord Frey.

"Mercy, please my Queen!"

"Well, I enjoy yours," she smiled before conjuring up a flame from her hand. She nodded to Arya.

"Nymeria," Arya called and the wolf released Black Walder's leg as he crawled on the ground.

"Lothar Frey and Ser Whalen Frey," she looked at the two men - on the ground, barely breathing. "I am told that the two of you attacked your sister, Lady Tyta, as she fought to defend me and the Princess Arya. I would say that she deserves her justice, but I will not leave that task to her." Nysa lifted her hand and smiled as the flames shot out and consumed the two men. "Just to let you know Ser Whalen, Prince Bran Stark is still alive," she said loudly as many of those in attendance murmured and whispered. "I had planned that he would chose either Shirei, Alyx or maybe even your daughter Merianne as his bride. Now," she lifted her hand and watched in delight as the fire burned bright and high. "You'll never know if your daughter becomes a Princess."

"It was I, my Queen," one of the Frey men shouted, rolling on the ground from his wounds due to Lady.

Nysa's head turned towards him as shocked whispers filled the crowd.

"I killed my father," Ser Ryman Frey raised his bloodied hand.

Harrion walked up to Nysa, presenting her with Maiden's Mercy.

"Let my sons and my brothers live," Ser Ryman added, "I beg of you."

With her right hand she twisted a ball of fire and pushed it into the yard, burning the rest of the Freys slowly as they screamed.

"You wanted my mercy, Lord Frey," Nysa asked Lord Frey before lifting the sword in her two hands. "Then you shall have it," she stood over Ser Ryman and plunged the sword into the back of his head.

* * *

Jory walked down the hallway towards his and Marissa's room only to find a few of the young women moving Marissa's things out. He paused in front of them, his mere presence demanding their attention. He noted that one of them curtsied and apologized quickly for the delay.

"Delay?"

"Yes," the girl faltered, before glancing inside. "We were told that you would want your wife's things moved out of your room immediately, my Lord."

"I don't remember..."

"Forgive me, my Lord husband." Jory turned around to see Marissa standing there. Marissa gestured for the girl to go back in and the older woman - whom Jory was certain was her mother - had gone into the room as well. "I thought that I spare you the humiliation and move my things out of your way."

She looked defeated and nothing like the daring and bright young woman he had wed the day before.

He didn't have that much memories of his mother - but he knew that his father had taken care of his wife, knew that she never left his side. The same could be said of his Uncle and especially about Lord Stark. _The moment I covered her in a Stark cloak, I took her under my protection - she became my family. I lost my father, brother and sister. But I had gained so much._ Marissa was his wife now, not something to cast aside so quickly. He thought of Nysa's sadness at seeing the King with another. How quickly she believed - that they all believed - she had been cast aside.

" _I pray that you are pleased with your Queen's choice_ ," was the first thing she had asked him when she came to stand by his side.

" _I always did trust my Queen_ ," was his reply as he lifted her hand to his mouth.

" _I trust my Queen as well_ ," she answered with a smile.

This young woman had become his wife, his family. He covered her in his House's cloak - though small and granted a castle at the Queen's request - he agreed to take Marissa in as his family. He had lost his father and had taken in Nysa. He had lost his Uncle now and had taken in a wife. Marissa had trusted Nysa's decision that he - her new husband whom she had never met - would take care of her.

 _It is to become my home now. I should dearly want to know more about it._

 _You put my mind at ease though, husband. You made me feel safe._

 _You make me happy, Jory._

 _I like that you'll be by my side through it all. I don't know what I'd do without you._

Jory had smiled because he agreed with her. _I feel the same, Marissa._

Marissa stepped forward then, bringing his thoughts to the present. "I will be at the other end of the hall, Lord husband, if you want to take your pleasure," she said before turning around. It was like he had been slapped in the face.

 _Would you rather I just lay back then, husband?_

"No," Jory shouted, reaching out to grab her arms and pulling her back against him.

Her face showed a small flicker of fear before she lifted her chin. "Or would you prefer to take your pleasure from me now?"

"What? No," he shook his head.

"Perhaps you'd no longer like to share my bed," she said - and just like before, he saw a glimpse of feeling, a feeling of sadness. This time it was a brief passing of sadness and hurt before her face hardened again. "Not that I need to know. You have the right to do as you please, my Lord."

It was like all feeling and life had drained from her. She didn't look like the young woman he had wed the night before. Instead, she was submissive, beaten, down-trodden and depressed.

"I don't want that."

Marissa took a deep breath. "Then what does my Lord husband want," she asked quietly. "I am here to please..."

"I want my wife back," Jory interrupted. "I want the woman I wed last night, the one who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to tell me. I want the woman who was willing to share in the pleasures of our bedding, who was excited to share in creating a home, building a life."

Marissa's eyes started to water at Jory's declaration. She looked at him, staring into his eyes - praying that everything he said was true. She had allowed herself to hope last night that the Queen was right - her brother would treat her kindly. But thinking back to this morning, she couldn't stand the look of betrayal and hurt on his face when she told him about her grandfather's plans.

"I don't want a wife who feels that she has to live on the other end of the castle from me," Jory added. Now, it looked as though there was regret and sincerity in Jory's eyes - regret for saying the things he said this morning. "Certainly not this mousy little Frey who bows her head and hides behind false pretenses!"

She stumbled a bit, gripping onto his arms as he held her closer.

"I want Marissa Cassel."

Marissa felt her heart pounding in her chest. A bright feeling flowing through her causing her to smile, the tears on her face tasting salty as they fell earnestly.

"I was such a fool, Marissa," Jory said as he reached up to wipe the tears. "Forgive me for... Gods, forgive me for everything," he said with a smile as they both shared a small laugh.

"Forgive me as well," Marissa replied. "I had this nagging thought that you'd turn on me. I was expecting the abuse and..."

Jory changed his tight hold on her to a loving embrace, burying his head into the crook of her neck. "You'll never have to, not from me. I promise you, Marissa."

She choked back something between a laugh and a sob, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling me closer than she thought possible. He had never thought that love was something he would have to learn. He always believed that he would choose a wife that he loved - something that he had taught to Nysa, something they had spoke about on a number of occasions. But as he held his young wife close, he thought that this learning to love business wasn't so bad after all.

He moved to look down at her, her eyes gazing longingly up at him. "If you are moving your things, then they should be prepared to move mine as well - however little they are," Jory instructed. "For I am not to part from you, my wife."

Marissa sniffed as Jory reached up to hold her face in his palm. She closed her eyes and turned into his warmth.

In the shadows, Marissa's mother prayed that at least one of her daughters would find happiness in their marriages. And from the looks of things, her youngest daughter appeared to be on the right course.

* * *

"So much for guest right," Greatjon commented as the rest of House Frey entered the hall.

"Traitors," Smalljon and a few others shouted.

Robb and Nysa took a seat at Lord Frey's high table. There were very few men left from House Frey now, especially after this morning. Nysa looked far too comfortable for someone who performed an execution. She leaned back in her chair, legs crossed with both of her arms resting on the side of the chair. Robb would talk about her performance in the yard later. Surely, she was mourning or in pain - perhaps both.

"Lady Walda Frey," Robb looked at the young girl. Her father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all dead. "You are the heiress of the Twins, it would seem," he began as the young girl nodded and looked down shyly. "Your great-great-grandfather," Robb closed her eyes, "has been imprisoned and likely to be executed for his treason against the King and Queen. You will become the Lady of the Crossing. Your cousin, Perra," Nysa looked over to see older Lady Mylenda clutching her daughter close to her. "will be the next in line to inherit. That is of course until you wed and have children," he nodded as young Walda's head bobbed in acknowledgement. "Is that what you desire, my Queen?"

Robb turned to look at Nysa and she nodded in response.

"I see no need to tear this castle away from House Frey," Nysa answered. "Out of admiration for Ser Stevron and respect for Ser Jared, Ser Danwell, Ser Perwyn, Lady Tyta and the many others who have stood by the King and I, this castle, this home should remain in the hands of House Frey. It has been for many years and will continue to be. That is unless, you give me reason not to."

It was a huge responsibility to put on a young girl's shoulders. She was only a year younger than Arya. However, both Robb and Nysa knew that young girl understood what was happening.

Walda took out a sword - the one that belonged to Ser Stevron - and knelt in front of Robb and Nysa. "I pledge House Frey's fealty to it's King and Queen. House Frey will continue to serve House Stark. Now and always," Walda finished as she smiled.

The words weren't the same but they were enough and Robb nodded in appreciation.

Cheers and claps filled the hall as Walda returned towards her mother. Nysa gestured for a few others to step forward. Most of them had lost husbands and fathers early this morning. There was talk that the Queen's mercy would be shown to them also. Visibly afraid that they'd catch on fire - as they heard what had happened - many fell to their knees, begging for their lives. Robb lifted his hand and quieted them.

"Certainly, none of you played a part in this affair," Robb said as they denied their involvement. "My Queen assures me that you all will be given mercy - considering that it was Lady Tyta and Lady Marissa who warned my wife and assisted my sister in getting help."

"We have a merciful Queen," one of them stated as the others agreed.

Robb held up his hand to stop their talk.

Slowly, Lady Mariya went to stand up in the middle of the gathered women. "What is to become of us? For many of us, our husbands are no longer alive. For some," she gestured to a few of the young girls, "they have no fathers."

"You are the mother of my good-sister, Lady Mariya," Nysa responded, "if you wish to come North and be with your daughter, you may. You do have a daughter wed to Lord Bolton and currently she is Lady of the Dreafort. Once the King and I receive her fealty - she'll be granted mercy. I know it is not her fault to be the wife of such a man. If you desire to go to the Dreadfort after that, then you may."

"You'd allow House Bolton to keep the Dreadfort, my Queen," someone shouted as the Lords and guards of the North protested.

Robb held up his hand to silence them and looked towards Nysa. "I'm sure that the mercy shown here will be shown at the Dreadfort. Lord Karstark will have the honor of executing Lord Bolton," he nodded towards Harrion Karstark, "that much is certain. However, that castle should continue to provide for its Lady. Your other daughter, Lady Mariya," Robb glanced at her, "will be spared. But I assure you that her husband is as good as dead the moment he held a knife to my mother's throat and murdered Lord Karstark."

"Traitor," shouts rang out in the hall as once again Robb quieted down the men.

"We are sorry for your loss, Lady Mariya. Truly, we are," Nysa said. "But your husband attacked the Greatjon and he paid the price for his actions. I understand you are the Aunt to young Lord Lyman Darry. That is another option for you as well. If you wish to return to the home of your father..."

"I will go North with Marissa, my Queen," Lady Mariya curtsied. "Thank you, my Queen."

Nysa nodded as another woman stood. "Lady Jyanna," she acknowledged as the woman curtsied. "I am sorry for your loss as well."

"What of me and my two children," she questioned with tears in her eyes. "I just birthed a son."

Lady Roslin stepped forward before anyone could reply. "You were wed to my brother, Jyanna," Roslin answered. "I will take care of you and your children."

"Thank you, Lady Tully," Nysa answered, glancing quickly at Edmure who was sitting on the opposite end of Robb, instead of standing with his wife. "And may I remind those who recently wed - Lord Edmure, Ser Patrek and Lord Jory," she glanced at her brother, "that I will say this once and only once. Roslin Frey, forgive me Roslin Tully is not the enemy. Arwyn Mallister is not the enemy. Marissa Cassel is not the enemy!"

Edmure simply nodded in understanding. Nysa didn't like the brush off.

"She is your family."

"I know that," Edmure replied, glancing at Roslin. "I know that I wrapped her in my cloak, took her under my care and made her my wife."

The way he spoke told Nysa that he had a lot of time to think on the matter.

"Roslin explained to me what happened this morning," he said as shocked whispers filled the hall. "She believed that I would listen to her and treat her honorably. And she believed that because of our Queen," Edmure kept looking at Nysa. "Am I frustrated about being deceived? Yes," he added. "But I will not take that out on my wife. Last night Roslin became my family. Arwyn became a Mallister, Marissa became a Cassel - your sister by law. They are not the enemies, not after they come under our care."

Edmure went to stand slowly and looked around the room. Nysa saw it then - Edmure had become Lord of Riverrun, not just by his father's passing but by learning things about 'Family, Duty, and Honor'. And he had done that all on his own.

"Roslin was merely a pawn, used by her father. If not for her, Arywn or Marissa none of us would be alive. The King, the Queen, the child that grows in her, the Lords around this table, or even my sister," Edmure looked over at Catelyn. "Yes, she knew of his plans, of Lord Bolton's plans. Lady Marissa made us aware of it before it became too late. We were able to save ourselves because of her, because of Roslin, because of Arwyn."

He walked towards Nysa.

"And if being around you has taught me anything, it's that none of this would be possible without the women who are our wives, who bear our children," Edmure said for her ears only, bowing his head towards Nysa. "I hope that you accept my apology, my Queen. And I want to express my appreciation also, for choosing a fine Lady for me and for Riverrun."

Something had passed between the two of them just then - Robb could only think of labeling it as 'respect and trust'. It wasn't the type of respect they held as being kin, relations through marriage. No, Robb concluded. It was the type of respect that you would give the Lord of a great House and in return the Queen of a Kingdom. As if sensing it, his mother reached over and took Robb's hand in his.

Robb looked at his mother and nodded.

Nysa curtsied before Edmure as he rose. "I think we're going to learn a lot from one another," she paused and smiled as she came to stand, "Lord Tully."

"There is truth behind your words, my Queen. You have House Tully's loyalty and support," Edmure smiled at the young Queen before turning away from her. "All of you listen to me," he looked to the remaining Lords around the table and in the room. "I think we need to seriously discern who is for our King and who is not. I know what you all may think of your King and his choices. I know that you all think he has lost the North and broke his promise to the Riverlands. Is that why he had two Lords so ready to betray him," he glanced around, "so ready to conspire to murder his Queen and their child? Is that how you all feel?"

Everyone remained silent until one of the Northern Lords cleared their throat. Nysa couldn't believe what she was witnessing - Edmure was coming to her and Robb's defense. It appeared that she had a lot more to learn than she thought.

"I would never betray House Stark," Greatjon stepped forward. "Robb Stark is our King."

"And his wife is our Queen," Lord Glover shouted as the others followed.

"It didn't stop Lord Bolton or Lord Frey, did it," Edmure questioned.

"I understand we have families back home," Nysa glanced at Harrion. "My Uncle lost his life. Lord Stark lost his life. There are guards from Winterfell, guards from all over the North who lost their lives. Fathers, sons, brothers," she added. "But if we fight amongst ourselves, all of their deaths will be for naught."

She came to stand in front of Robb and held out her hand. He stood from his seat, took it and comfortingly squeezed their locked hands, offering her a smile of encouragement before she looked back at those who were gathered in the hall.

"You chose Robb to be your King. And he chose me to be your Queen. I am doing all that I can to gain that back. Your King wants it back. Jon is fighting to gain that back. We will get back home, we will protect our families," Nysa announced.

"Determining who is loyal to you is one thing, my Queen," Lord Blackwood stepped forward. "But House Frey murdered one of my sons. We shouldn't let them go unpunished. They need to prove their loyalty," he pointed to House Frey, "not us."

The crowd in the room cheered in agreement. Some of them - like Lord Blackwood - held a lot of hatred and disgust in his eyes. Along with the shouts, cries began to fill the room. That is when she turned towards the faces in front of her - the faces awaiting judgement. She saw children - scared and frightened - clinging to their mothers or older siblings. They were on their knees, begging her for mercy. In her eyes, House Frey had already been punished.

Releasing Robb's hand, Nysa walked down towards the women who were gathered.

"A lot of them already have," Nysa responded.

"My Queen..."

Nysa held up her hand to silence the Lord. "I slighted their House. They had every right to be upset with me. But I was welcomed with open arms by these women." She gestured for Lady Joyeuse to stand. "Lady Joyeuse bravely stood up to her husband. Lady Marissa whispered the plan to me before she was taken away. They were fiercely loyal to me, where two of the King's Lords had blatantly betrayed me. So, these women deserve a place of honor among our castles," she looked back at Edmure.

Edmure smiled and nodded. "Lady Jyanna Frey, I believe my wife has spoken. You will come with me and your good-sister, Lady Tully. Riverrun will help to take care of you and your children."

A small gasp left the woman's mouth before she covered it with her hand and pulled her children towards her. She curtsied in front of Edmure before Roslin beckoned her over. They embraced one another - the women and her children - as her tears of relief poured out from her face.

Nysa nodded slightly at Roslin before turning back towards the group of women.

"Lady Sallei, you are allowed to take your children and return to the home of your father, House Paege."

The woman nodded gratefully, bringing her sons towards her. Nysa noticed two of them - the twins - look at her with fear in their eyes before they wiped away their tears and bowed their heads. Nysa knelt before them as best as she could - Harrion coming to her side to assist her.

"Your father was a good man. He listened to Lord Frey and wanted to protect his House. And nothing is wrong with that. He just made a bad decision." She nodded to them as they nodded back. "You are not to blame. You all listen to your mother, okay?" They nodded again before scampering off to hide in their mother's skirts.

Harrion held out his arm and pulled her up to stand as gently as he could. Nysa thanked him before turning her attention back towards the rest of the group.

"Lady Sylwa, like Lady Mariya, I offer you the choice to come North with your daughter, you and your son," she glanced at young Hoster who bowed his head.

"Thank you, my Queen," Lady Sylwa answered.

Young Hoster took to his knee. "I would like to serve in your personal guard, my Queen."

A few chuckles were heard throughout the hall. Nysa put out her hand, requesting that Hoster stand. "Hoster, I don't think..."

He stood and gave her a determined look. "My sister is to serve you, my Queen. I would like to do the same."

Before she could answer, it was Robb who stood and acknowledged the young boy. "I have no doubt that you are eager and willing to defend our Queen, Hoster Frey. But perhaps you could go instead to Greenhall and train under Lord Jory Cassel and his guards. And when your training is complete, then you can become a guard at Winterfell and serve the Queen."

Hoster lifted his head in pride and nodded. "Thank you, your Grace."

Both Nysa and Robb nodded their heads to him as he left with his mother.

"Lady Leonella," Nysa turned her attention to Lother Frey's wife. Their were some from the North who said that she should receive punishment since it was her husband who had assisted with the plans of betrayal. She held her head high as the Queen drew close. Nysa could see the slight fear in them though. "What is it that you wish to do? I understand you grew up in Golden Tooth. You must know that there is nothing for you to return to."

"She's from the Westerlands," someone shouted.

"We can't trust her!"

Lady Leonella ignored the taunts and replied to Nysa. "All I ask is that you show me and my daughters mercy, my Queen. Remember that two of my daughters adore you. They love you, my Queen," she said between tears and sobs. Walda and Emberlei clung to their mother's skirts as Tysane held their youngest sister in her arms.

"I could offer you to come North with us."

There were murmurs.

"The North is harsh, my Lady," Nysa said. "I understand you do not wish to stay here at the Twins. There is only that other option for you, which is to go, if that is what you desire. But life there will not be easy, not with Winter so fast approaching."

However, Lady Leonella did exactly that. She promised to go to the North and serve the Queen. She would either go to the Dreadfort or Greenhall to enter into her niece's care and protection to serve them once they became with child. She held no desire to live in the Twins.

One of the widows from the other Frey men had requested to wed one of her dead husband's cousins - apparently they had an understanding. A few others were allowed to stay in the Twins under the protection of Lady Walda Frey and the few Frey men who would stay here.

Ser Perwyn stepped forward then and took out his sword. "I know it has not been said out loud, but I would like to say it now that the mercy shown to us, shown to House Frey is because of our Queen."

"To the Queen," one of the Frey knights stated as the others shouted in agreement.

"Our father," Ser Perwyn began. "You gave House Frey four marriages at his request. And there is promise of more," he glanced at his youngest sister. "A promise that I know our Queen will keep. I do not know why Lord Bolton concocted this plan, why my father agreed to it," Perwyn stated. "But what I do know is that this morning, our King and Queen could have taken all of House Frey. It was within their right," he shouted, looking at his brothers who remained. "We are the ones who broke faith with them, too."

"I agree with Perwyn," Ser Danwell stepped forward. "Our father broke the guest right. Had us killing those from the other Riverland Houses - some of them, our own kin. He made an agreement with you, my Queen. It was you and Princess Arya that Harrenhal belongs to and yet you gave that to us, gave that to my son," he gestured towards Oswell. "He called you and the King traitors to House Frey. But House Frey is the one who broke faith with our King, too. And to own the truth," he chuckled. "I don't know of any woman who could do what our Queen has done and will continue to do for us."

"You spared our lives, our House," Ser Perwyn nodded towards her, pointed his sword on the ground and bent his knee.

"I agree with Perwyn," Ser Jared did the same.

"As do I," another Frey repeated.

"You are right, my Queen. We choose Robb Stark as our King. And now we choose you. To the Queen, _our_ Queen," Ser Perwyn said. "The Queen of the Trident."

"Queen of the Trident," someone shouted.

Lord Blackwood stepped forward and mimicked Ser Perwyn's actions. "Queen of the Trident."

The Blackfish pulled out his sword and did the same as Lord BLackwood. "Queen of the Trident."

Nysa felt Robb take her hand in his. She looked over and he smiled reassuringly at her.

"To the Queen of the North and the Trident," Harrion shouted as the Northern Lords joined in.


	33. Part 4: Queen of Westeros - Chapter 33

**Part 4  
** **Queen of Westeros**

 **Chapter 33**

"Jon," Rickon ran through the halls. "Jon! Jon, hurry!"

Jon heard his brother's screams and thought the worst. For a moment he was glad that he wasn't up in his room and instead was in the hall breaking his fast. Since his brother's return he had to admit that he slept a bit more soundly through the night. Things were starting to relax. He had found a few families who had escaped before the massacre and were hiding in the nearby godswood. They had rejoiced when seeing Jon. And upon seeing Bran and Rickon - it was a sign of blessing from the Gods.

Since it was so quiet lately, he was surprised that he found himself enjoying a nice conversation with Osric, Ronnel and Cedric as they sat at the table, breaking their fast. Onya, a serving maid - a member of one of the families they had found, whose father was a guard at Winterfell - turned sharply away from pouring their water and dropped the picture. Her hands were shaking and her smile was gone when she heard Rickon's screaming.

Cedric and Ronnel were the first to draw their swords and turn towards the doorway.

"Rickon," Jon shouted as the little boy came to halt at seeing the frightened and angered expressions of those in the hall. "What is it? What's happening?"

"Forgive me, brother," Rickon looked down shyly. "I just wanted to show you something," he lifted up his hands and opened it.

The men who were in the hall paused, putting their swords back - as did Cedric and Ronnel. Onya covered her face and slowly started to sob before her father - who had been standing at the doorway - brought her into his arms. He looked at Jon who in return gave the man a nod. It would be hard for a lot of people - including Onya to relax once again. Whatever had happened here, Jon was sure that Theon was going to pay for harming the people of Winterfell.

Beth had entered the hall with Rickon and walked slowly towards the table and began to take over Onya's duties. Jon was about to dismiss her, but she had gone away so quickly, he didn't have the time. And right now, there was another pressing matter to attend to - Rickon.

Osric looked to see that Rickon was holding a raven. He glanced at Jon who slowly took the bird from Rickon's hands. It squawked and pecked at Jon's fingers before Jon was able to get the small piece of parchment tied to the bird's foot. Almost immediately the bird took off and flew out one of the windows - perhaps going to Maester Luwin's towers. Jon opened the parchment and smiled.

"When did you find this," Jon asked his brother.

"We were," Rickon paused and looked away guiltily.

Jon knelt in front of his brother. "Whatever it is, Rickon, you won't get in trouble for it."

Rickon's eyes shifted behind him and Jon turned to see him looking at Beth.

"Beth won't get in trouble, either."

"She didn't do anything," Rickon said hastily before glancing down at his feet. "She was the one who told us not to. But Calon said that no one would know," Rickon replied quickly.

"Rickon," Jon scolded lightly.

Rickon sighed before glancing towards one of the tables with guards on them. "We were sheep," he paused and looked at the guard again, "sheep-shitting." Jon followed his gaze and hid a laugh. He knew what Rickon was attempting to convey. He shook his head and stood up to face Ronnel.

"What," Ronnel questioned when a few other heads turned to him.

Jon chuckled before walking towards him. "You might want to clean your," he paused and shook his head, "your furs in your bunk."

"Why you little shits," Ronnel chuckled as Rickon took off, Calon, Tom and even Beth were laughing. Unlike the boys, Beth stayed put and helped with the duties until Onya had appeared again.

Bran smiled from the doorway and was encouraged to enter by Jon. Bran looked up at Hodor and Osha who pushed the chair in. Jon glanced at the contraption and was sure that Tyrion Lannister had assisted in it - he said that he had a design to help Bran ride. And since he was a Lord's son - Bran would most definitely be cared for in that regard.

"Will you accept it," Bran asked with a smile - a true, genuine smile.

"I do not know."

"Nysa demanded it," Bran replied.

"Aye, she did," Jon nodded as they came face to face.

"She is our good-sister and our Queen."

Jon sighed and shook his head. "I will think on the matter. But there is other good news in here."

"What is it," asked Cedric Forrester as he the rest of them began to stand.

Jon thought a moment about telling them about the legitimization. Instead, he decided to forgo that part. He turned around to face the small group that was gathered there. "The Queen is with child. An heir to the North will be born soon."

The men cheered as Jon glanced down at the letter. Nysa appeared to be happy in the letter, happy to be wed, happy to be with child. But if he knew her like he believed he did, there was a small part of her that wasn't truly happy. Bran had mentioned seeing her and Robb arguing, plots developing around them. The only thing Jon could do was to pray that Nysa would survive.

* * *

Edmure smiled and held out his arm for the young Queen to take. Robb and Catelyn had been right. Something transpired the day after his wedding - the day after their attack. Right now, the King had just dismissed Edmure and Ser Patrek from his war council - along with Ser Danwell and a few Frey knights. They were to be in charge of defending the Riverlands, fortifying it should Tywin decide to march on the Riverlands while Robb was capturing Casterly Rock. They had received their instructions and one look from Nysa informed Robb that she trusted Edmure would get the job done.

While the King remained in the hall, speaking with the Northern Lords about news of Lord Bolton and their impending battle, Edmure escorted Nysa out of the room and down to the kitchens. She had been starving, but refused to mention the matter out loud. Robb would have ended the meeting there and then in order to attend to her.

"I wanted to express my gratitude, my Lord," Nysa remarked, "for all that you have done."

"You are the Queen and..."

"I meant about standing up for your Lady wife and those who are kin to her," Nysa interrupted. "For defending Robb and I," she added, "and I'm sure there will be other opportunities that lie ahead."

They continued walking, receiving curtsies and head bows from those whom they passed by. Three guards from Riverrun followed behind them.

"It's rather difficult being Queen," she sighed. "Amazing how quickly my station was lifted in one day and with that everyone expects things of you. I'm sure you feel the same."

The young Lord chuckled. "I only want to do what is right for the Riverlands and for my House," he replied. "I know we did not see eye to eye during our early interactions, but I have faith that you will make an excellent Queen of the Trident as I will make a good liege Lord for the Trident."

"Thank you for your confidence," Nysa added. "Again, I want to express my appreciation for the way you handled your wife and House Frey. There are not many who agree with me about the mercy they were shown. Apparently, I was too forgiving. And now I'm beyond naive for keeping the rest of the male descendants of House Frey alive."

"What did they want you to do? Burn them all?"

"Perhaps," Nysa shrugged. "What are you thoughts?"

Edmure nodded, thinking a moment before giving his answer. "Believe me when we first woke, I wanted to yell at my wife, berate her. I did feel deceived, cheated almost. But there was a look in her eyes, pleading like. She urged me to hear the whole story - her side of the story, too."

"Her side," Nysa asked as they took a turn.

"Although the King had never chosen his bride, she always assumed that it would have been her," Edmure suggested.

Nysa smiled lightly, remembering a few conversations she had with Roslin - one of them being exactly that. "I believe that she and Robb would have got along quite nicely." She looked down and for a moment pictured Roslin as a Queen. "She has a humble personality, coupled with a feminine determination that escapes most Ladies. Yes," nysa nodded, "she would have been wonderful Queen Stark."

Edmure chuckled. "I do not think she would have lasted in the North, though."

The young Queen turned to Edmure to see that he was indeed jesting with her. "She will do wonders in Riverrun," Nysa added which made Edmure nod in agreement.

"Aye, I agree on that matter." He paused their walk and turned to face her. "May I tell you a story I heard as a child?" She nodded. "House Frey wasn't always indecent. According to rumor, they produced fine knights who fought gallantly during any and every tourney. My sister, Catelyn, once said that compassion is like a river. You throw a jagged rock into the river and over time, it will smooth it out. That's how compassion works. Your mercy towards House Frey will smooth out the rough edges. You may not have fine knights as there were in the past, but in time, you'll see the beauty of your efforts."

Nysa smiled at that.

"I kept that in mind, when my wife and I speak - not just about her father, but the rest of her kin as well."

"Good advice," Nysa nodded. "I must say that I am glad that I chose you for Roslin, also. I believe the two of you will be happy."

"Aye, I must say that she is pleased with the alternative as a husband," he smiled at Nysa as she shook her head.

"You truly are a jester. I can understand why you and Ser Patrek are close friends."

Edmure laughed this time. "The young Lords in the Riverlands have to entertain themselves in some manner."

"You and Ser Patrek are married men now," she smiled.

"Aye and it's my wife's job to set me on the straight and narrow," he replied. "Although I am grateful for all that my Queen has done also."

Nysa smiled. "Thank you, Edmure. That means a lot to me."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Your welcome, Nysa." She smiled in reply. "You and I are truly going to learn a lot from one another, aren't we?" Before she could answer, he continued. "Roslin shared with me something very interesting while we were discussing her father's betrayal. She said that he almost told you about Lord Bolton's plot, her father that is. He discussed it with his sons and he knew that many of them felt that you had made your amends."

"That didn't stop him though, did it?"

Nysa's voice was bitter and she could tell that Edmure had flinched at the tone.

"No, it did not. According to Roslin, she had never thought a woman would be able to sway her father the way that you did. You've impressed them - all of them. They're looking forward to a bright future - something that you painted for the young Frey children. You made all of them feel important. Walder Frey saw that."

"But Bolton tempted him," Nysa finished.

"It would appear that he did."

Nysa turned to him, "What do you mean, it would appear that he did?"

Edmure chuckled. "I wonder if Walder Frey was content with having his granddaughter become Lady Bolton." Nysa blinked at that revelation. "You helped to arrange four marriages, two of which were to great Riverlands Houses - House Tully and House Mallister. Not to mention House Frey receives Harrenhal and his granddaughter will be the Queen's sister-by-law," Edmure tilted his head with a knowing smile. "That should have been sufficient enough to trump Lord Bolton's offer. What else could he possibly have promised Roslin's father?"

"You're right," Nsya whispered. "Why did I not see that? That is what Roslin told you, isn't it? About her father," Nysa prompted.

"She was so sure that he would have pulled back with the gift you presented. Obviously one would question what would be better than four marriages? I hardly think it was Lord Bolton's marriage to a Frey granddaughter."

"It makes no sense at all."

"One thing is for certain, we would have to ask Lord Bolton - when he is found. Unless, Walder Frey can be made to talk," Edmure suggested, "about what tempted him."

"I'll have to ask Robb about it. We still haven't discussed what is to be done with him. He is an old man. I want to say that he won't live long but he's lived this long as it is," Nysa replied.

Edmure nodded. There was no sense in denying that he too had wondered how long Walder Frey would live. The man certainly appeared that he would fall over at any moment. At the same time, he proved everyone wrong by continuing to outlive his sons, grandsons and great-grandsons.

"Roslin had inquired about her father. She doesn't want him to be executed but she understands that something will have to be done."

"I admire her courage," Nysa said.

"Yes, she has an abundance of courage. And patience," Edmure added. "I think that had a lot to do with the way you spoke about me, Ser Patrek and of course your brother and Lady Jeyne. It encouraged them that you had their interests at heart, her best interests."

"I am glad."

"She said that she's never heard such praise spoken about another Lord - one whom her father would often speak ill of," he whispered in a teasing, conspiring tone that made Nysa laugh.

"Lord Frey did mention that he had offered House Tully one of his daughters on numerous occasions."

"He did, he did," Edmure nodded, before deciding to speak of lighter matters. "I think we had a raven die, flying back and forth between the Twins and Riverrun. That's how often he sent an offer."

Nysa nudged him with her elbow as he chuckled. "You jest."

The rest of their walk to the kitchens was quiet - a calm and peaceful sort of quiet. And for that, she was glad that Edmure had changed the topic of conversation to something else so that she could focus on something good and calming. The babe was restless whenever she was restless. And at the moment the flutters in her stomach reminded her that the babe could sense its mother's unease.

Edmure helped her to sit as she called for one of the boys, someone he knew they called 'Hot Pie'. He had seen the young boy in Riverrun. He had become somewhat of a cook for the King and Queen. Edmure also remembered that the young man was a friend to Arya. They had both been in Harrenhal, traveled to Riverrun together. Rumor had it that there were few people whom Arya kept in her close circle - one of them was this young man.

"Two raspberry tarts," Hot Pie set a plate in front of Nysa. "One for you and one for the little Prince."

Nysa groaned in annoyance, causing everyone in the room to stop. "Forgive me," she smiled at them. "Continue on."

"Did you want something else, Nysa? I could make you a good pie," Hot Pie went to grab the plate, but Nysa quickly placed her hand on top of his.

"This is fine, Hot Pie. And I've been dying to get a raspberry tart in my mouth. Thank you." She smiled and Hot Pie nodded, leaving to go and prepare another dish. Nysa turned towards Edmure as he came to sit on the seat next to her. "Robb has everyone calling our child a 'Prince'," she rolled her eyes before taking a bite of the tart, moaning in delight as she chewed on it.

"And you think it will be a Princess," Edmure asked with a smile.

Nysa sighed and shook her head. "I think he might be correct. It could be a Prince. But I just don't want him to get his hopes up if it were not," she replied.

"Robb will be pleased either way. As long as you and the babe are healthy - that's all that matters," Edmure reassured her.

"Thank you," she reached her hand out to pat his arm before turning back to finish the tart. "And what of you and Roslin? Do you think we shall hear about an heir to Riverrun being born soon?"

Edmure chuckled and started to eat one of the fresh loaves that Hot Pie had brought over. "One always prays and hopes for such a blessing."

"Your House appears to have that trait in common, I think," Nysa smiled at Edmure. "Your sister was so quickly blessed with Robb. And Robb and I were so quickly blessed with our own," she touched her swollen belly. "If the Gods are good, they will bless you and Roslin also."

They both shared a smile. Nysa and Edmure went back to eating the food being brought before them. Edmure didn't think that he was hungry, but the young man could certainly cook. The bread had never tasted sweeter. The raspberry tart that the Queen favored was mouth-watering as well. He remembered eating the pork from the wedding. Hot Pie had prepared it differently than what they were all used to. However, he was finding that he liked it done the way that Hot Pie had made it.

"Are you taking him North with you," Edmure gestured to Hot Pie.

Nysa smiled and leaned closer to him. "I think we would need to ask Princess Arya about that," she whispered as they both laughed.

They continued eating their small meal there - enjoying light conversation, speaking about Roslin and of course Robb. And that is where Catelyn found the two of them. She was sent by her son. Robb had been looking for Nysa. They had settled on a plan for Casterly Rock and he wanted to discuss it with her. Edmure escorted both his sister and his good-niece out of the kitchens, thanking Hot Pie for the meal and proposing an offer as cook at Riverrun.

Catelyn replied with the same answer as Nysa. "You'd best ask Arya if she'd allow that."

* * *

Sansa and Tyrion were walking in the gardens. Shae was nowhere to be found - something that Tyrion found quite disturbing. He really did come to care for Shae. Suppose it was just in his nature to want someone that he couldn't have. At the same time, here he was walking with his wife and finding that despite not bedding her as a husband ought to have, he did enjoy her company. Sansa was still very young and naive, but she had a real innocence and compassion to her that was endearing.

"So, we are to stay here for a while longer," Sansa asked.

"Unfortunately," he replied, glancing towards her with a small smile. "May I ask where is your handmaiden?"

Sansa clicked her tongue. "She has been behaving rather ill lately," Sansa commented. "I do not understand it. Whenever I inform her that I am to take my lunch with you or we are to break our fast, she disappears." Sansa paused and turned to Tyrion. "I hope you haven't mistreated her in some way or form, my Lord."

Tyrion smiled kindly before clearing his throat. "You may call me Tyrion, Lady Sansa. You are after all my wife." She nodded. Despite that acknowledgement, Tyrion knew that it would take her some getting used to. "I," he paused and shook his head.

What was he going to tell his wife?

That he had bedded her handmaiden?

"This is the first time I've found you speechless, my Lord," Sansa hid a smile and a blush.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her statement. "Which is odd because I have a great many things to say - not just to you, but to others as well."

"I should hope that you and I will come to a point where neither of us keep any secrets from one another," she said softly.

The tone of her voice was pleading, begging for attention. And Tyrion was almost glad that it was he who she had wed and not Joffrey. She surely wouldn't receive kindness from him. And any attention she'd been the recipient of, wouldn't have been the best. Tyrion sighed and urged the two of them to stop their walk, gesturing for her to sit at a bench that had somewhat become 'theirs'.

She must have thought the same for she smiled and sat down.

"Perhaps your handmaiden is upset with me as to regards the wedding feast, I didn't treat you as I ought to have," Tyrion attempted to explain.

"On the contrary," Sansa shook her head. "You were merely expressing your frustration towards the King," she looked down. "I know it was no fault of mine. You said so yourself when we had retired to our chambers."

Tyrion gave her a brief nod.

"And I know you," his young wife paused and glanced down at her lap. "I know that our wedding night, it was your right to," another pause. "You could have claimed me as yours, but you didn't."

Tyrion took a step forward and took her hands in his - a calming gesture that they both seemed to enjoy. "I meant what I said," he reminded her. "I will not share your bed until you are willing. And if you should never," he nodded and looked away.

"You'll need an heir. We spoke about an heir."

"I know we did," he replied gently as he could. "But I will not force myself upon you, Sansa. You've had many choices taken away from you as is. Your father, your mother and your brother," Tyrion added quietly, "they are good people - were in your father's case. You don't deserve the things that have been done to you."

Sansa nodded and graced him with another beautiful smile.

"My Lord."

Tyrion and Sansa pulled their hands away from one another and glanced to see Podrick had rushed over to find him - leaving a few giggling ladies in his wake. Tyrion hid a smirk and gestured for Podrick to step forth.

"Forgive me for intruding, but your Lord father is requesting your presence," Podrick mentioned.

Tyrion sighed before turning to Sansa.

"Go," she urged.

"Pod, will you escort Lady Sansa," Tyrion nodded to his wife. "Wherever she wants to go, the godswood, the gardens, our chambers," he explained. "Make sure she gets there and keep watch over her until she is reunited with her handmaiden."

"Of course, my Lord," Podrick nodded. He held up his arm as Sansa glanced at Tyrion.

She surprised both her and Tyrion when she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his cheek - the scared one. The most adoring blush tinted her cheeks as she pulled away. "Shall I see you for sup, my Lord?"

Tyrion nodded. A warm feeling spreading through him as he watched her stand and take Podrick's offered arm. His eyes followed her figure as she walked down the pathway. Just before she got out of sight, she turned around to look over her shoulder, bidding him farewell with another soft smile.

* * *

Nysa ran her fingers through Robb's dark auburn curls as he marveled at the life they had created inside of her womb. He would tap her stomach lightly and watch in amazement as their son would kick in response. Robb was still adamant about their babe being a son - but he told Nysa that he would be happy either way, as long as both she and the child were healthy - just as Edmure had reassured her.

Nysa had worried about whether Robb would be upset if she birthed a daughter instead of a son. She knew the importance of having a son. A son carried his father's name, a son would become King after Robb. Yes, a son was very important. But everyone - Jory, Lady Catelyn, Arya, Gendry, Edmure, Lyra and even Harrion - reassured her that Robb adored her so much that he wouldn't care about the child being a daughter.

To hear him say it now, eased her mind.

And the way he stared at her round shape made Nysa believe him.

The second he found her, he brought the two of them to their room and discussed the plans with her. She agreed with everything - except the part where she would be leaving the Twins. She was too heavy with child to journey back to Riverrun - something that Robb was slightly upset about. He wanted her out of the Twins, wanted her someplace safe.

Robb was about to leave her soon - his plan to besiege Casterly Rock still in place. He wasn't leaving any of the Frey men back with her. In fact, he was barely leaving any men back with her.

Smalljon had agreed to be one of those who did. He vowed to protect the Queen and the unborn child. Should anything happen, he was under explicit instructions to take Nysa back to the North. On Smalljon's mother and younger siblings lives - he had vowed, reminding the North and the Riverlands that Nysa was capable of not only destruction, but life as well.

"He is strong," Robb commented, adjusting his body to a sitting position.

"Still a Prince, is it," she questioned with a smile.

Robb smiled before leaning down to press his lips gently to the side of her swollen belly. "You know that I will be just as happy with a daughter."

"Oh," she lifted an eyebrow at him.

He smirked from his spot, shifting his eyes as they gleamed with mischief at Nysa. "It only means that we would have to try for a son, again and again."

"Mm," Nysa sighed softly before gesturing for him to come towards her.

The rounder she got - the more he began to stare longingly at her belly than at any other part of her. She could have been lying naked in their bed - just as she was now - hoping that he would come to her. Instead, he'd sit down at her side and rub her stomach, whispering little tales to the child growing inside. They had just leaned close enough to press their lips gently to one another when the door flung open.

"My King, a rider approaches," Olyvar burst into their chambers as Robb growled impatiently.

Nysa only giggled lightly before adjusting her gown to hide her nakedness. Olyvar - good man that he was - had the decency to look ashamed and turned to face the other way as Robb climbed off the bed and started to look for his clothes. Once Nysa had tied her gown, she went over to assist Robb in dressing.

"Where is the rider from," Robb questioned as Nysa fastened his tunic, running her hands down his chest to flatten out the garment. He smiled down at her. She always thought of how he should make a good appearance as King.

"We cannot discern, your Grace," Olyvar answered, without glancing back. "He is riding too fast."

"Did we send out a party to greet him?"

"He's already disarmed the first group of guards that went out there. And he has refused to speak to my brother or to Lord Jory."

Nysa gasped slightly. "Did he attack my brother?"

There was a pause before Olyvar responded. "Your brother still lives, my Queen. His injuries - along with the other guards - were not fatal. My brother, Perwyn, wishes to send out more men but they wanted to know your response, my King. He moves swiftly. We need you to make a decision."

The urgency in Olyvar's voice and the description of what was taking place outside the walls of the Twins, made Nysa fumble the fastening. Robb took a hold of her hands and held it tightly in his. There was a slight fear in her eyes as she glanced up at him but he gave her a reassuring kiss before pulling her in his arms.

"How far is he?"

"He should be here any moment, my King," Olyvar replied. "Lady Tyta and Lady Lyra are prepared to shoot him with arrows. They have archers standing their guard, waiting for your order."

"And he hasn't said where he comes from or what his purpose is?"

"No, your Grace. My brother sent me here to know what you want us to do."

Robb sighed before extracting himself from Nysa. "Smalljon," he shouted as the man appeared from outside the doorway - sword at the ready. "Prepare a horse for my wife, my mother and my sister." Nysa tried to stop Robb, pulling him back inside. "If anything should happen, you get them out of the Twins first and foremost. Then, you come back to the fight."

"No, Robb," Nysa shook her head. "What about you? What about your safety?"

"A King is not a King if he does not fight for his people."

"And what about fighting for his Queen," Nysa cried.

Robb rubbed her arms before dropping a kiss upon her brow. He gently moved past her and nodded towards Smalljon. And just like that he and Olyvar were down the hall, preparing to defend the castle against this intruder.

* * *

Tyrion set the note down. "I still don't understand what this means," he gestured towards it.

"It means that the Targaryen bitch I had been hearing about is in Westeros," Joffrey slammed his fist on the table before standing. "My father had the right of it. He wanted to send an assassin to murder her. And now look at what's happening," he pointed to the letter. "There's a dragon at the Twins!"

"It could just be a rumor," Cersei attempted to placate her son. "Men will speak nonsense when they have had too much wine or fought in too many battles."

"I want Sansa brought before me to explain this!"

Tyrion chuckled. "Sansa has been here in the Capital for moons. Truthfully, it's been a couple years," he looked at his nephew with a dumbfounded expression. "There's no way that she knows of something her brother had organized with a disgraced Princess that was stuck in Essos."

"What would you know of it," Joffrey marched towards him.

"He knows nothing," Cersei reached for Joffrey with a soft smile. "He's just a bitter, little man," she looked pointedly at Tyrion.

He smiled at his sister before looking towards his nephew. "Little, I may be," he began, "but bitter, I most certainly am not. I have a beautiful and kind wife."

"Your wife is a whore!"

"That is your Aunt by marriage," Lord Varys looked up at Joffrey. "Surely..."

"Joffrey didn't mean it. It was just a joke," Cersei smoothed her son's hand, remembering that Margery Tyrell had done that a few times and gotten her son to relax. It had the opposite effect however, when Joffrey ripped his hand away from his mother's.

"I did mean it. His wife is a whore," Joffrey pointed to Tyrion. "But then again that's exactly the type of women that he enjoys."

"That's quite enough," Tywin came to his son's defense, which made both Cersei and Tyrion puzzled. "We are speaking about the Lady of a great House. And now what Lord Varys says is correct. She is Lady Lannister. From her will come forth the heir to Casterly Rock."

"Father, you don't mean..."

Tywin looked at Cersei, silencing her. Tyrion sat there quietly, thinking about what his father had just stated. Whether it was to quiet Joffrey or not, Lord Tywin had basically announced that his son would become the heir to Casterly Rock.

"We will respect our newest kin," Tywin stated as though it were a law, and something told Tyrion that that was exactly what it was. Whenever Tywin Lannister spoke, it was law. "In the meantime, we will send more men to determine if it is true. That the Targaryen Princess has made her way from the East - though I doubt it."

"Just because you doubt it, doesn't mean that it's true." Tywin looked at his grandson. "I told you that this would happen," Joffrey shouted at his grandfather.

"Joff," Cersei reached for him with a soft smile.

"My father was the only one who thought of protecting the Iron Throne, protecting what is now mine," Joffrey pointed to himself. "And now, the North has that dragon bitch with them!"

Tyrion glanced at his father to see him studying Joffrey.

"You told me not to worry on the matter! That you, my Hand, had already discussed it and the situation had been properly resolved," Joffrey reached for the note, throwing it in his grandfather's lap. "Does that look like it's been properly resolved, grandfather? Does it?"

A tense moment of silence filled the room. For Joffrey to behave in such a manner towards Tyrion was predictable, perhaps even expected. This time it was his grandfather. Cersei attempted to grab Joffrey again - not wanting her son to be subject to another shameful display from her father. Tywin had already done so earlier. Now, she could see what her father had been talking about.

Tywin took the letter slowly and placed it back on the table. "The King is tired. See him to his chambers," he nodded towards Cersei who immediately stood.

"Come along," she cuddled Joffrey. "Let us not dwell on this news. We still have so much more to celebrate. Your impending wedding..."

"I will not be sent away again," Joffrey screamed. "I am the King!"

"Maester Pycelle, perhaps an essence of nightshade to help him sleep," Tywin continued, staring pointedly at his daughter, hoping that she would see the need to reign in her son, immediately.

"I'm not tired," Joffrey pointed towards his grandfather.

Cersei - remembering her recent conversations with her father - took Joffrey's arm in hers. "Come," she urged.

Tywin dismissed Joffrey easily, turning away from him.

In tune, Joffrey looked down shamefully before turning around. Grand Maester Pycelle followed closely behind them. When Lord Tywin gestured for Lord Varys to leave, Tyrion glanced at his father again and saw his father's eyes pinning him in his place. He was to stay. Once everyone had left, Tyrion smirked. Tywin knew a smart remark was going to come out of his youngest son.

"Say what is on your mind."

"You just sent the most powerful man in all of Westeros to bed without his supper," Tyrion couldn't help but smile.

"You're a fool if you think he is the most powerful man in Westeros - especially since I have done it before and will do it again, if he so much as utters another word of disrespect."

"A treasonous statement, Joffrey is King," Tyrion replied. "He has the right to disrespect whom he pleases."

His father smirked this time. "You really think being a King gives him power?"

"No," Tyrion answered. "I always thought armies gave you power. Robb Stark has one, never lost a battle," he tilted his head. "And to show that power, he still lives. Despite what you attempted to achieve there." His father turned his head and blinked his eyes - either feigning ignorance or studying his son. "Oh, I see how this played out. Lord Walder Frey takes all the credit for betraying Robb Stark, slaughtering him at a wedding feast - a wedding that saw his Uncle wed and his wife's brother wed. Isn't that what you informed me was taking place?"

Tywin didn't respond.

"You did. You did inform me of that. Now, Walder Frey is many things, but brave?" Tyrion shook his head. "No, he wouldn't risk it. Especially since you stated that his daughter became Lady to Riverrun, another became Lady to Seagard and wouldn't you know," Tyrion smiled, "a grandson in Harrenhal. Prizes such as those," Tyrion clicked his tongue. "And he'd still betray Robb Stark?"

"I gave him certain reassurances."

"More than what Robb Stark had delivered," Tyrion questioned. "Do you plan on giving Tommen to one of his daughters?"

Tywin sat there silently.

"No, no," Tyrion shook his head. "You wouldn't do such a thing. Tommen is more valuable than that, I'm sure. Did you promise him Casterly Rock? No," Tyrion shook his head again. Now he was simply mocking his father. "You love that castle more than your grandson, so..."

"He was not the only one I made a bargain with." Tywin smiled crookedly. "You are right. Walder Frey would not have concocted the idea by himself. In fact, it was not even his idea from the start."

Tyrion waited for his father to explain.

"Lord Roose Bolton was to become Warden of the North," Tywin said as Tyrion understood clearly. "He has a bastard son - who he requested would be legitimized. And I had hoped that with Robb Stark out of the way, that would make your son through Sansa, heir to the North. Remember," he nodded to his son, "you would have the North, Cersei the South, and we'd control all of Westeros."

"Unfortunately from where I'm sitting, there still lives an heir in the North," Tyrion pointed to the letter. "You underestimated the Stark boy again."

"Walder Frey does desire marriages. That is easily done. Robb Stark easily maneuvered that. But what Roose Bolton wanted," Tywin tilted his head in response before picking up the letter. "I could give that."

"However, they lost."

"They did," he commented.

"This must mean that Sansa and I aren't allowed to leave," Tyrion asked.

His father shook his head solemnly. "Ser Tytos Brax informed me that many of the Westerland Houses are surrendering to Robb Stark. And that Stark boy will march onto Casterly Rock if he does not get his sister back."

Tyrion nodded in understanding, knowing what his father was revealing. "You may lose Sansa, lose the North, if you release her to Casterly Rock." Tywin didn't need to answer his son's statement, Tyrion knew it to be true. "Do you plan on sending reinforcements?"

"He won't go to take it. Not after the wedding. They'll need to regroup. He may have survived but his ties with House Frey and House Bolton - along with a few others - have dwindled," Tywin reminded his son. "His victory is short lived, I assure you. But there is still much that was lost. Therefore, we'll keep Sansa here."

Tyrion sighed, knowing that Sansa wouldn't like this news piece of information.

"And what of the rumored Targaryen," he then inquired. "What are you going to do about that?"

Tywin went to stand from his seat and walked to where his son still sat. "I may know what is going on."

* * *

"Another letter from our King and Queen," asked Cedric Forrester.

"So soon," Osric Umber agreed. "We had just received word that the Queen is with child."

"We have to remember that my youngest brother and the other children said that raven was lost," Jon stated as a few of them turned towards Ronnel Woods and chuckled. "I'm going to assume that it took longer than usual to reach our hands, since the children were preoccupied."

Bran smiled at Ronnel and leaned over the table. "I hope you have forgiven my brother."

"I have, young Prince," Ronnel nodded. "Children will be children, especially the ones from the North."

A smile formed on Jon's lips seeing that Bran was now at ease - the topic of him leaving still hadn't been settled on. Jojen Reed walked in and sat down. He had seen Jojen and Bran discussing a few things in the godswood but nothing was certain - especially the idea of Bran leaving Winterfell.

He smiled while reading the letter before noticing that Nysa's handwriting changed towards the middle.

"Gods," he muttered causing everyone to look at him.

Jon sat down trying to discern what he was reading before glancing towards Bran. There was a confused look upon his face but his younger brother understood enough to know that what was written, wasn't good - it wasn't good at all.

Lord Roose Bolton had betrayed Robb. Whatever his reasons for doing so, it wasn't made clear. Jon sighed and shook his head, setting the letter down and looking up at Osric Umber and Ronnel Woods.

"House Bolton has betrayed our King," Jon said.

"What?"

"How?"

"Why?"

Everyone bombarded Jon with questions as he tried to take a deep breath. They were alive and well - alive at the very least according to what Robb had wrote to him. As for their well-being, that remained in the air. Robb had said that times were distressing and that he'd speak to Jon in person about other matters. But one thing was definitely certain - they had survived a betrayal.

"Lord Bolton and Lord Frey plotted to murder Robb and his Queen during the wedding feast of Jory Cassel, Ser Patrek Mallister, Lord Edmure Tully and Lady Jeyne Westerling," Jon repeated that one sentence from the letter as more shouts were exchanged within the room.

"A wedding feast," someone questioned.

"The Queen's brother and the King's Uncle, too," another person spat. "Shame on House Frey! Shame on House Bolton!"

"Do they mean for us to march on the Dreadfort," Osric jumped at the opportunity.

Bran shook his head and looked intently at Jon. "I think Nysa would want us to stay here, stay in Winterfell. Protecting the castle - our home - is more important than going out to attack the Boltons."

"And what if they come here," Ronnel questioned.

Meera Reed who had been standing in the background chose now to voice her opinion. "He'll never make it pass the Neck," Meera said as they all turned to look at her. She glanced at Jon and smiled. "Your brother - forgive me," she paused, "our King met with my father before he traveled South. The Lords had gathered at Moat Cailin and received instruction on their plan of attack. Nothing can get through the Neck - not from the South."

"The Ironborn are no longer there," Osric commented. "So the castle has been fortified with northern forces. But they may also think that Bolton comes in peace," he looked back at Meera.

"His son was supposed to come here," Cedric commented. "At least that's what we had heard," he turned to Jon.

"Ramsay?"

Cedric nodded.

"I remember you mentioning that," Jon looked at Osric.

"The King had sent men back to aid in recapturing Winterfell. It was through Ramsay that we were told of your brother's fates," he pointed towards Bran and Rickon.

"But there was no recapture," Bran replied. "Rickon and I hid in the crypts when we heard of Theon's plans to murder us. We stayed there - we heard the horns, but Osha said it wasn't safe to come out. So, we stayed hidden."

"Thank the Gods," Ronnel murmured as someone else mumbled in agreement. "Imagine if they had come out. Bolton's son would have Bran and Rickon, while Bolton himself betrayed our King and Queen."

That one statement made Jon think quickly as he and Meera exchanged a look. He turned towards Bran then, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You said that you heard the horns," Jon pressed.

"It's the same thing that the other children said as well," Osric reminded Jon.

"It was a trap," Jon shook his head, realizing what had happened. "That's how far Bolton's betrayal went," he looked towards Bran. "Ramsay came here - those are the horns that you heard. I remember being at the Dreadfort once," Jon paused and thought of the incident he had seen when he and Nysa were but children. "Ramsay said that he enjoyed hunting. He used horns to scare and intimidate the animals."

Jon sighed heavily. What would father have done?

Before he could think on the matter, he looked towards Bran. "What did you say about plots?"

"That they were surrounding Robb and Nysa," Bran answered.

"At first we thought it was only a threat from the Westerlands," Jojen added.

Jon cursed before glancing at Osric. "Lord Bolton probably convinced Robb to send Ramsay back here to help free Winterfell - only he didn't help Winterfell. Then they made everyone believe that Bran and Rickon are dead. Do you know what that would do to your mother," he looked at Bran, "what that would do to Robb?" He shook his head and looked towards Meera. "What would have happened had my brothers gone out when they heard those horns and thought it was a rescue?"

"The Northerners wouldn't have run from a familiar face," Osric replied. "They were happy when they saw us, imagine if they saw a small army from House Bolton?"

"Winterfell has burned because of Bolton's son." Jon bit his bottom lip - the urge to ride to the Dreadfort was strong in him. Ramsay was there. He was sure of it.

As if sensing the change of his mood, Meera stepped forward again. "What does the King and Queen instruct us to do?"

Jon gestured towards the letter. "Daryn Hornwood, Robett Glover and Ser Wylis Manderly are in pursuit of Bolton as we speak," he replied.

"Then, I think it best if we stay here, protect Winterfell."

"I don't know how things are done in the Neck, my Lady," Ronnel stated with a slight snarl. "But Lord Bolton has brought shame to the North by betraying our King. My brother is riding with the King. Osric's father and brother are with the King also. Who's to say that none of them were murdered during this betrayal?"

"I understand that," Meera stood strong and proud in the room full of men. "But the letter already says that the King has sent men after him. We should follow whatever instructions our King is giving us."

"Lady Reed is right," Jon agreed. "Prince Bran is right," he nodded to his brother. "The King and Queen have expressed their gratitude for our actions in ridding the North of the Ironborn and reclaiming Winterfell. They still need us to secure this place for the Queen."

"The Queen," questioned Ronnel.

"Robb doesn't want her in the Riverlands anymore - especially after this betrayal. There's only one place he wants her and that's here - at Winterfell, his home, her home," Jon stepped away from Bran and walked around where the rest of them stood. "Once the babe is born, they'll journey North - back home, back here," he looked down at the table. "He's entrusting us with her safety."

"So, we stay and wait for her," Osric asked.

"If you want to go back to your homes," Jon began but Osric put up his hand and shook his head.

"What I desired was to go to war as well, serve House Stark like my father and his father before him. This," he pointed to the letter, "is a request from House Stark, a request from my King. I will follow."

"As will I," Ronnel nodded his head in agreement.

"I will stay also," Cedric stated. "But what about Bolton?"

Jon nodded and turned towards Cedric. "Send out ravens - Karhold, Last Hearth, Hornwood, Bear Island, White Harbour, all of them. Inform them of House Bolton's betrayal. No one should welcome a Bolton into their castle."

"Do we have enough ravens," Bran asked.

"We'll make due with what we have," Jon answered. "Time to prepare the castle for our Queen."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

The man moved back and forth - here and there. He didn't stab anyone or cut them down. But he was fast, able to apprehend or disarm any guard that went to challenge him before moving on to the next. However, with each passing guard, this man drew closer and closer to the gates.

"Archers at the ready," Tyta said from on top of her horse. She had collected fifty guards from House Frey, House Blackwood - her mother's House - along with House Vance. The guards would protect the Queen and serve under her and Lyra's command. Both she and Lyra gave them no rest and trained them vigorously. Ten of them were very decent archers now. "No kill shot, the King will want him alive!"

She held her hand up and waited with bated breath as the man drew closer to range.

Lyra leaned closer, aiming for the man's legs.

"We want him wounded, not humiliated," Tyta told her.

Okay, so perhaps Lyra had been aiming between the man's legs instead. Lyra smiled and moved her to change her position. "I've got him."

"Wait for it," Tyta told her.

A sudden rumble, jostled them.

They both turned to look at the ground and then at their surroundings before realizing that someone had gave the order to open the gate.

"He's inside," a shout came from below.

"It couldn't be," Lyra said, looking back over the castle walls. She stared at the hooded figure that had fought off a guard on horseback - effectively stealing his horse. "I do not understand how there could be two of them."

"What," Tyta asked.

Lyra pointed towards the figure as the other guards who were out there pulled him from his horse and removed the man's hood. Only it wasn't a man. It was a woman. "It's a woman," Lyra shouted as the men hauled her away. Lyra hurried the men down and away from the wall. She spotted the King then, hurrying with his group of guards to where they were. "The attacker was a woman, your Grace!"

Robb ordered the men to move out when a third attacker appeared. Immediately this attacker took off her hood, revealing that she was a woman just like the one that had been caught outside. She held a spear in her hand and cut down as much guards as she could until she came toe to toe with Gendry. He jumped to protect Robb - wielding his hammer and short sword with ease - causing the woman to fall on her back.

The Greatjon and a few others surrounded her as she threw her spear down - her eyes narrowing at Gendry as Robb came to stand by him, nodding to him in thanks for defending him.

A fourth attacker came to a sliding halt as Tyta had moved their fifty guards to defend the entry to the Twins.

"I have come here for the Queen," he stated.

"You have come here to die then," Tyta replied as she attacked him.

He kept his sword at his side, not withdrawing it. Instead he produced a spear and began fighting off the guards with that. The guards scrambled to surround him as Gendry, Greatjon and Lord Glover were given orders to tie the two women up. When Robb turned his attention away from the captured women and looked at the man who was brilliantly defending himself against their guards.

The fourth attacker was joined by the other. As the remaining two had been apprehended. They entered so easily that it caused Robb to panic. If there were more attackers out there, he had to act quickly. He ordered a few of the guards by him to search around the castle.

"Stop!"

A few of the guards did, but Lyra and Tyta held their swords and continued to fight the two attackers. The hooded man deflected each swing of their swords. After a moment, Lyra could tell that both she and Tyta were just attacking out of frustration. The man exploited that - humiliating them with his staff.

"Stop this!"

Lyra lunged forward and watched in disbelief as her sword tangled in the other man's cloak and was pulled from her fingers. He swung it around and used the hilt of the sword to hold Tyta off.

"I said to stop," the voice commanded. Lyra glanced back to see that it was Nysa.

This time one of the men dropped to his knees, causing Tyta to stumble back. The second one bowed his head, releasing Lyra's sword - which she quickly went to retrieve and hold it up towards the man - who was bowing in reverence in the direction of Nysa.

Nysa walked towards the group of guards that surrounded the men. The women being dragged forth before Robb - but she paid them no mind. She was focused on the men who had stopped fighting.

Lyra moved to stand protectively in front of Nysa. "My Queen, it would be safest if you got back inside."

Nysa shook her head and turned to look at Lyra. "No harm should come to this man," she gestured to the one of the right.

"My Queen," one of the guards stepped forward.

"I understand that no one is dead," Nysa stated, looking around as the guards shook their heads in response. Nysa began to move forward again towards the man she pointed to. Lyra watched as the man stood and pulled back the hood of his cloak. "You have a lot of explaining to do, Ser Barristan."

A few voices whispered and muttered as the man revealed his identity.

"He serves as Joffrey's Kingsguard," someone shouted.

"He was dismissed from Joffrey's Kingsguard," Nysa replied. "And what are you doing here, Ser? So far from the Capital?"

"I've come to serve the rightful Queen of Westeros."

"Do we speak of Cersei Lannister or perhaps Margery Tyrell," Nysa questioned.

"He speaks of you," the other man went to stand.

"And who are your companions, Ser Barristan," Nysa asked, eyeing out the women for the first time.

The second man drew back his hood, revealing his dark hair and tanned skin. A few murmurs filled the crowd but nothing too unsettling. Nysa still couldn't figure out who he was.

He smiled at her - the same way she noted that Ser Preston had smiled at her. "You look a lot like your mother," he stated - still smiling. He glanced around and noticed that the two who had accompanied him were detained. "I would ask that they be released, my Queen. Then perhaps you and I could discuss matters."

"You and I will discuss matters first, before you reach _my_ Queen," Robb replied, coming to stand by Nysa.

"Young King Stark," the man smirked at him. "My daughters could kill your guards quickly, take your wife and leave the castle before you even realized that we had done so. Now..."

"I am showing you mercy by stopping this fight," Nysa stepped forward again. "Do not threaten me or my King again or you will see that my mercy has limits. You obviously came here to speak to me."

"Aye, I did." The man bowed his head, turning his attention back towards Nysa. "My name is Prince Oberyn Martell."

"From Dorne," Nysa added.

"The Red Viper," Lyra muttered behind her.

He held out his hand. "My daughters, Obarra and Nymeria," he gestured towards the two who were still bound.

"You will forgive me if I do not unhand them immediately, Prince Oberyn," Robb replied. "They did attack my men and myself included, after all."

"I merely wished to gain an audience with my niece," Prince Oberyn stated as he looked at Nysa.

Was he looking at her? Suddenly the first words that he had said to her came back to her mind - _you look a lot like your mother_. How was it that Prince Oberyn Martell knew her mother? And the fact that he had come here looking for his niece, left Nysa confused as well. Who could possibly have been his niece? The way that this Prince Oberyn was looking at her - with respect and adoration - could indicate that she was his niece. But that couldn't be true.

"You must have me mistake for someone else, my Prince. I am..."

"The daughter of Princess Elia Martell and the crown prince, Rhaegar Targaryen," Ser Barristan finished.

"No," Nysa responded. "My father is Ser Martyn Cassel from House Cassel in the North," she stated as Prince Oberyn smiled and looked down - still appearing unconvinced. "I am..."

"Perhaps we could take this inside." Everyone turned to see Lady Catelyn standing there - a look of both concern and fear in her eyes.

"You've never told her," Prince Oberyn stated. "I was under the impression that - according to a letter you wrote to my brother - you did in fact in form my niece, Lady Stark."

Again, the heads turned to Lady Catelyn. She lifted her head high and walked slowly towards Robb and Nysa. "It is neither the time or place to be speaking of such matters. We should go inside so that..."

"There's truth behind his words," Robb questioned.

Lady Catelyn appeared apprehensive at first before casting a guilty look towards Nysa. "We were waiting for the opportune moment," she confessed.

"No, you're lying," Nysa shouted, turning away and staring at Prince Oberyn. "I do not know why you're here or what you expected from..."

"I expected that you'd want to take your place as Queen," he replied.

"I already am," Nysa affirmed, taking Robb's hand in hers and lifting her head.

"My darling girl," Prince Oberyn shook his head. "There's no use in denying the truth any longer."

"It is a lot to take in, I understand," Ser Barristan stepped forward. "Lady Catelyn is right. We should take this inside. Forgive me for the style of entrance, but we knew there would be no other way to enter the Twins unless by force, my King," he addressed Robb. "There is much to discuss and very little time to discuss it."

"No," Nysa shouted.

"Nysa," Lady Catelyn's soft voice spoke out to her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and surprisingly, Nysa shrugged it off. "Tell me it's not true. Lady Catelyn, I..." She shook her head and felt the tears running down her cheek.

"Ned was going to tell you in King's Landing, when he introduced you to Prince Doran," she replied. "I'm so sorry, Nysa. Forgive me. We only lied to protect you," Lady Catelyn explained.

 _"As for your training, what Theon said is rubbish," Catelyn affirmed, "you have more noble blood in you than that squid."_

 _"Your eyes," the Queen held her face in her hands, "they look almost violet."_

 _Torrhen laughed heartily before moving back to hold her more intimately than before. His arms wrapped about her waist, holding her tightly to him. "I wish you were coming back to Karhold with me now. But your brother and Lord Stark are insistent that you meet your Lord Uncle first. Apparently, he needs to approve of me."_

 _"I should hope that you find them," Tyrion Lannister began. "From what I hear, they come from a wealthy house indeed, with the name-day gifts you have received thus far."_

Nysa felt her breath leave her. The fluttering in her stomach turned to a beating - the babe in her womb recognizing the mother's distress. She touched her stomach and shook her head. Her mind was whirling, trying to discern everything that had happened in her childhood - everything that she could remember, everything that she dreamed about.

She felt her hands shake and she reached out for someone to take a hold of her. Robb bought her to his side, holding her gently but tightly to him. He started to say something to his mother, but Nysa couldn't make out the words. It was as though everything around her became muffled. She shook her head again, trying to clear her mind, trying to calm down.

 _Arya turned around to face her and smiled. "We're here!" Nysa took a deep breath as they rode into the Capital. Something blinded her eyes for a moment and she was struck with a memory of a woman singing to her._

 _She took a few steps forward before stopping, a sudden voice calling in her head. She spun around but no one was there. "Throne," she heard a child's voice. Again, Nysa turned, but saw no one there. She looked back at the Iron Throne and took a deep breath at seeing how impressive it looked._

 _"There is still Rhaeger's daughter," Lord Varys held up his hand, "remember that she could not be found."  
"She was presumed dead when the Lannister's sacked the Capital," Lord Stark responded, "they murdered innocents that day as well."  
"Presumed," Lord Baelish said, "but never confirmed."  
"We should have had the two Targaryen Princesses killed years ago," Renly mentioned as Nysa turned her head towards him._

"Mother," Robb turned to her. "Are you serious? Is this true?"

"It is," Lady Catelyn sobbed.

"I do not know if it can be put more plainly than it already has, young King," Prince Oberyn responded.

Even if the facts were plainly stated, Nysa felt so confused and conflicted. No, it couldn't be true, she shouted in her mind. She tried to focus, tried to draw strength from holding onto Robb. It was overwhelming and unsettling. She couldn't form a thought on the matter other than to say that she was confused, uncertain. Oh, this was a horrid situation indeed. Surely, Prince Oberyn was wrong. But the more she thought about the past, little incidents that happened here and there that no one could explain, Prince Oberyn's excuse was looking quite possible after all.

"You do not understand," the Greatjon came forward then. "We all believed that she was," he paused, uncertain as to what to say so that he wouldn't offend the Queen.

Harrion assisted him then. "She was raised as a bastard. We all believed her father to be Ser Martyn from House Cassel."

"If this is true, then why," Robb continued to look at his mother.

"Your father returned with them both. I didn't know how to..."

"What do you mean by both," asked Arya.

"Robert Baratheon did not bat an eye over any Targaryen's death," Lady Stark stated.

"You were there in King's Landing, my Queen," Ser Barristan reminded Nysa. "You know that he still wanted to murder you and your Aunt. There was no rest for him."

Lady Catelyn nodded her head. "The Lannister's had murdered your brother and mother. They had Prince Viseryn put to the sword as well. Robert and your father argued about it," she glanced at Robb. "They were children, you were but a summer or two," she looked to Nysa. "Ned had planned on taking you back to Princess Elia but when he heard what happened he knew you were not safe."

 _"I know who you are," he admitted.  
"Everyone knows who I am. I am the girl from the North, household member of Lord and Lady Stark. I am to become one of Lady Sansa's ladies when she becomes Queen. I am called Lady Snowflake or Lady Bastard."  
"That is not who you are."  
"You aren't making any sense," she shook her head.  
Ser Jamie chuckled at how plainly she put it before he turned towards the hallway to see a few Lannister guards, awaiting his instruction. "It would be safer if you learned who your mother was when you are farther away from here, believe me."_

"Why not say something? Why raise her as a bastard," Robb questioned.

Ser Barristan stepped forward. "Lord Eddard Stark hid her identity to protect her. And from what I've been told, she was raised in comfort."

"And he couldn't bring himself to hand Nysa over," Lady Stark walked up to Nysa and took her hands in her own. "You were in Lyanna's room when she died. You kissed her cheek. It was obvious that your father had you and Lyanna there to keep you both safe and during that time you two had bonded. He heard of what took place at both Kings Landing and Dragonstone. He decided to take you to the North."

"He committed an act of treason against the crown," Nysa shook her head.

"I suppose he did," she smiled gently. "We were scared. We both were. But somehow, we knew every day that you were in our protection that we had done the right thing. The North hated House Targaryen because of what happened to Rickard and Brandon and the other Northmen that were lost that day. I suppose taking you and raising you in the North, Ned had hoped that you would..."

"Come to love it," Nysa whispered. "I remember Lord Stark telling me that before we left for the Capital. He had hoped that I would love the North and that the North would love me. I did not know what he meant by that but..."

 _Ned chuckled. "Odd that you would say that since you were born here."  
"I was born in Kings Landing," her voice rang with hope._

 _"Once they see the terms for your betrothal to Torrhen Karstark, they will know."  
"Know what exactly," Nysa questioned at the ominous tone in Lord Stark's voice.  
He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. His eyes were haunted. "If people knew," he paused and turned back to her. "There are too many ears here, I'm sure you know that." Nysa nodded, understanding that she would still not be getting the full scope of it all. "After the war, I knew that a Southern maid would not be appreciated in the North. So, I made the decision to raise you among my own..."_

"It was our hope that when – and if - you reclaimed the throne, your birthright," Lady Stark ran a hand down her cheek, "that you'd remember everything we taught you. That you'd have a kind and forgiving spirit. That you have admiration for the North and its people," she smiled.

The throne, she thought. As in the Iron throne - that being her birthright. No, she was just a bastard - a bastard from the North. It wasn't possible. She couldn't sit on the Iron Throne.

"Daenerys Targaryen is in Essos, desiring the Iron Throne," Nysa tried to breath steadily.

"You hold the better claim," Ser Barristan pressed, "your child holds a better claim than her."

"Even if you did not want it," Lady Catelyn spoke up, "at least Ned could rest easy knowing that he had made peace with your family."

"Why did you not say anything before," Nysa asked Lady Stark.

"That means that she is the rightful Queen to the Iron Throne," the Greatjon proclaimed. "She belongs there. Robb Stark as her husband, he will sit there. A Stark will rule all of Westeros."

There were shouts among the North and Riverlands, a sign that they agreed with Greatjon Umber.

This couldn't be happening.

No, this wasn't true.

She was the daughter of Ser Martyn Cassel.

Nysa's eyes sought out Jory then and saw him standing a distance away, a bandage around his midsection. Their eyes locked and she could see the regret he displayed in them. What was he telling her? Was he informing her that there was truth behind this man's words? No, it couldn't be. Not Jory. Jory would never lie to her. No, he wouldn't.

She broke contact with him as Prince Oberyn stood in front of her then - his tanned skin, just like hers. His dark hair, just like hers. The memory she had when she arrived in King's Landing entering her mind again.

 _"Don't leave, Papa!"_

 _Arms were holding her in place as she felt the warmth of the hand holding her own disappear. "Protect my daughter."_

The voice became clearer and as her eyes focused on the memory, so did the man behind the voice - a man with long, silver hair. His eyes staring at her with longing and care as he took steps away from her and towards his horse. She saw the two Kingsguards behind him as they nodded towards the men she was being left with. Nysa released a breath as she saw men she affectionately called 'Bull', 'Orning Sword', and 'Ser Swell' holding her back. She didn't want to stay with them - not on this day. Not when she could see that her 'Papa' was torn about leaving her.

 _"No! Papa," her hands moved out in desperation._

"It's not true," she whispered, still denying it.

Prince Oberyn reached out and touched her cheek. "I heard a rumor that a dragon made of fire flew above the Twins. Only a daughter of _Fire and Blood_ could do such a thing," he smiled gently. "Believe me, little dragon," he called her as it brought on another slew of memories, "you are Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of Elia and Rhaegar, the rightful Queen of Westeros."

* * *

Sansa sat up quickly and glanced around the room. She had nightmares before but this one was different. After hearing about the rumor that a dragon had attacked the Twins during a wedding feast, she immediately pictured her mother, sister, brother and of course Nysa being burnt alive in that castle. Despite the knowledge that they had survived the fire, that they were indeed alive - she couldn't help but think about what had happened that night.

Of course, Tyrion had explained everything to her when he returned from his meeting with her father - not just about the rumored dragon that had burnt the Twins but also about the plot against Robb Stark. Lord Walder Frey and Lord Roose Bolton had arranged to betray and murder her brother at the Twins. He also explained - subtly - that his father had been aware and that is why there was a delay in the two of them leaving to go to Casterly Rock.

Sansa had remembered the conversation her and Tyrion had the day before their wedding.

 _"I fear something terrible is going to happen, my Lady," he said in a grave tone. "My father seems to think that our child could become heir to the North."_

 _Judging from Sansa's startled expression, Tyrion knew she had not heard of it nor did she quite understand the situation at hand._

 _"With your brother at war, there's always a chance for him to die," Tyrion explained. "There is no news of your other brothers. I'm sure you know that the Ironborn have burned Winterfell." She nodded. "And your younger sister is traveling with your brother and mother. Which means that you are the only..."_

 _"The only Stark left," Sansa finished with a flicker of recognition. "Your father wants to wait until Robb's army is attacked before naming an heir."_

Lord Tywin had assisted Lord Frey and Lord Bolton in this plan in the hopes of Sansa becoming the only Stark left - the only Stark to inherit Winterfell. She closed her eyes and tried to picture Winterfell without her family. She couldn't. The only way she could truly be home is if they were there with her. After all -

"A Stark must always be in Winterfell," Sansa whispered as she pushed back the covers. Looking down at the sheets she realized that her moon's blood was upon her again. The nightmares always came at the same time. How she desperately desired for her mother to be here. That's when she slumped back and sighed. "Forgive me," she said softly, wondering if her mother could hear her.

"It's quite alright, my Lady."

Her body jerked in fear and again she sat up, coming face to face with her Lord husband. Tyrion smiled kindly and nodded to her. "Good morning, my Lord."

"Still abed at this hour," he continued to smile before glancing towards the table in the room. Sansa looked up to see that food had been brought for the two of them. A small portion of it had already been eaten, which she could only assume was her husband's doing. "I hope you do not think me rude, Lady Sansa. I have a few meetings to attend to. So, I broke my fast early so as not to disturb you."

"I understand," she nodded. "Is it more news about my brother?"

"I'm afraid it is," he replied. Tyrion glanced at the door before turning back to his young wife. "What do you know of Nysa Snow?"

"I've told your father everything that I know," Sansa answered.

Tyrion's lips twisted in confusion before his features softened and he gave her a nod. He had just turned away from her when she called for him. Tyrion paused and glanced back towards the bed, waiting for her to speak. Sansa slowly got out of bed, comfortable enough with his presence in the room that she didn't immediately reach for her gown or robe. Tyrion tried not to let his eyes linger on the outline of her form that the thin shift on her body revealed.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Sansa gestured towards the bed behind her. Tyrion took a few cautious steps forward before pulling the covers back to reveal the blood-stained sheets. "My moon's blood is upon me."

His hands dropped the cover and turned to look at her. "I do not understand why..."

"Your father desired to know," she interrupted him.

Realizing what she was implying, he gave her a slight nod. Tyrion knew that they hadn't conceived and that they would not - until she was willing to share her bed. And this latest news that she was not with child would surely reach his father. They hadn't been wed long but this appearance of blood on the sheets would indicate that there was no desired 'heir'. He reached to take her two hands in his and gave Sansa a kind smile.

"My father is the only one who is impatient for it," Tyrion reminded her again that he would wait. "You do not need to worry about being forced upon - not by me. And he has set Joffrey in his place as to how you should be treated."

"I thank you, my Lord," Sansa responded softly.

He released her hands and went to leave the room again. Then he stopped, remembering his earlier question. Tyrion turned to look back at Sansa. "My father's spies have returned with word that Ser Barristan Selmy and Prince Oberyn Martell have named your good-sister Nysa as the Queen of Westeros."

Sansa's eyes widened before she looked towards the window - the Hand's tower in her sight. Did he think that she knew something of it? She would have thought that by now, Tyrion would have understood that she knew nothing of games or riddles - especially those here at court. No, Sansa always pictured herself far away from King's Landing.

"Do you..."

"The last time I had seen Nysa," she spoke out loud before she could stop herself. "She was helping me escape the Hand's Tower when the Hound and Ser Meryn Trant got a hold of her. The Lannister guards had captured me, brought me back to the Keep - claiming that my father sought to steal the crown away from Joffrey." She looked back at Tyrion. "I knew nothing of that plot and neither do I know anything of this one."

Tyrion nodded and turned to leave.

"Is that what you wanted to hear, my Lord?"

He opened the door and without glancing back, responded, "It's what I already believed about you."

* * *

Nysa sat at a table in the hall with Ser Barristan and Prince Oberyn on the opposite end of her. Robb sat at her side with several guards at their back, watching over them protectively. Harrion was the closest to Nysa, followed by Lyra and Tyta. The guards from House Blackwood - Lady Tyta's mother's house - standing guard with her. Smalljon, Perwyn, Patrek, Gendry and several others from the Riverlands and the North stood by their King. Lady Catelyn sat at the table also, along with Arya, Edmure, Roslin and the Blackfish.

Just as the meeting she held with the members of House Frey - Nysa requested that all the Lords from the Riverlands and the North be in attendance, except for those that Robb had posted outside. Prince Oberyn's daughters - Obarra and Nymeria - had left not too soon after they were released and instructed to return with a 'gift' that Prince Oberyn had brought for his niece.

"Does Prince Doran know that you are here," Lady Catelyn spoke up, directing her attention to Prince Oberyn.

He smiled at her before looking back at Nysa. "Your Uncle expresses his sincerest regrets that he wasn't able to meet you."

"He doesn't know," Nysa deduced, glancing at Lady Catelyn. "While in King's Landing, Lord Stark told me that it was unsafe for me to meet my Uncle," her head turned back to Prince Oberyn and she smiled at him. "Hence the reason why they would both wait. And I can only assume that if Prince Doran knew of this, then he wouldn't have attacked the Northmen and River Lords to gain an audience with me."

Prince Oberyn smiled at her reply. He nodded before looking at Lady Catelyn. "She is smart. I have to say that Doran is right about the Starks raising her well." He leaned forward, causing a few guards to pull out their swords. He chuckled before tilting his head to Lady Catelyn. "I think I would have done a better job. Your husband should have brought her home - where she belonged."

"I belonged in King's Landing - not in Dorne," Nysa responded for Lady Catelyn.

A few of them turned to look at her in confusion.

"You accept who you are," Prince Oberyn questioned.

"No," she shook her head. "It's just something I remember Lord Stark saying to me while we were there. He wanted me to remember the names and faces of those that I met, what they said and how they said it." She smiled at Prince Oberyn. "Lord Stark also wanted me to remember the North. He implied that my Uncle would try to get me to forget it."

Lady Catelyn did her best to hide her smile at the shocked expression on Prince Oberyn's face.

"Lord Stark took me to King's Landing and showed me where I belonged, showed me how," she paused and looked towards Arya, "dishonorable, is that the word I'm looking for, Princess Arya?"

"I was going to say 'liars' but dishonorable fits," Arya replied.

"Yes, I suppose it does," Nysa nodded before facing Prince Oberyn again. "I'm quite sure that your reasoning for coming here in such a fashion was not to help raise me. My plans in this war have not changed." Nysa took Robb's hand in hers. "My husband, the King, and I want freedom for the North, to free the siege on the Riverlands, to bring peace to those who have sworn their fealty to us. He wants his sister to come back home. Regardless if I am this Princess Rhaenys or not - we do not want this war to continue. But your actions in coming here, in saying that I am the Queen of all of Westeros," she shook her head. "After what I saw in King's Landing, I do not want all of Westeros."

"With our combined armies," Prince Oberyn leaned forward as Nysa sighed and turned away, "we could march on King's Landing and take your husband's sister back."

"Stannis Baratheon failed to get into King's Landing," Robb interjected, "and he had more men than we have, Prince Oberyn."

"We have more ships than Stannis Baratheon," Prince Oberyn smiled. "How do you think I got here, young Wolf?"

"Think about it, Queen Rhaenys," Ser Barristan spoke softly and kindly. "I have seen enough of you in King's Landing to know that you have a kind heart - the same heart that your father and mother had."

"My father kidnapped and raped Lyanna Stark," Nysa replied. "That is very kind indeed."

"Your father did not kidnap her," Ser Barristan stood up and proclaimed in a definitive tone. "I've heard many things said about King Aerys, many of which are true," he agreed - still holding his solemn expression. "But your father was not of that sort. I will not have anyone talk of him that way - especially you. Your father loved you," he said as Nysa felt her heart constrict and her eyes water.

"My father's brother was executed in King's Landing by the Mad King," Ser Patrek spoke up. "He went there because Prince Rhaegar had abducted Brandon Stark's sister. That war started because Prince Rhaegar abducted..."

"Believe what you were told," Ser Barristan turned to him before facing Nysa, "but I know those that I protected. I swore an oath to keep their secrets, protect their lives and sometimes guide their understandings. There was no abduction."

Nysa looked down, the emotions Ser Barristan conveying in his eyes was more than she could handle.

"Ser Patrek is right," Robb stated. "We all know the story - especially in the North. The North remembers. My sister Sansa is not the first Stark maiden to be harmed by the crown."

The guards in the North cheered in agreement before Lady Catelyn stood up, quieting them down.

"There is more to the story," Lady Catelyn said as she glanced at Robb.

"I'm sure there is," Robb licked his lips, shaking his head in frustration. "What other news do you have to tell us, mother?"

"This is important," her bottom lip trembled. "You have to understand, Robb, your father swore me to secrecy. I knew what dangers were involved if I so much as uttered a breath on the subject. He and I didn't discuss matters openly for fear that it would put innocent lives at danger."

"I still want to know why I was raised as a bastard," Nysa whispered. "Not that I'm unappreciative of you and Lord Stark raising me," she looked at Lady Catelyn. "Lord Stark made sure that everyone treated me as Lady. I was trained with Maester Luwin - the same as the rest of your children. Septa Mordane gave me lessons - the same as Sansa and Arya. You introduced me as Lady Nysa," she smiled softly, "but why..."

"Jory had approached Ned and I," she answered. "We did not know how to hide you, should anyone recognize you," Lady Catelyn shook her head. "As I said earlier, the North hated House Targaryen. They wouldn't take kindly to knowing that Ned was hiding a Targaryen Princess in the North. And Robert," she huffed before looking off into the distance. "He sent men to Dragonstone to murder Daenerys while she was still a babe. We knew he'd do the same if he ever discovered you."

Nysa turned to look at Jory. "And so, I became the daughter of a dead knight."

"Jory would take Nysa in as his sister so that we could protect who she was," Lady Catelyn explained. "Everyone believed her to be the daughter of Ser Martyn Cassel. Your father," another pause as she looked up with a sad smile, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "He had already lied to protect another's identity, he decided to the same."

"Another," Robb questioned. "How many lost Targaryen's did we have hiding in the North?"

"Just one more," Catelyn replied with a soft sob.

"One more," Arya exclaimed. "There are no other children in Winterfell. And I highly doubt Theon was a Targaryen."

Catelyn shook her head and turned back to her eldest son and his wife. "This one was also raised as a bastard."

Robb felt a squeeze on his arm and looked over to see Nysa - her eyes wide and her mouth parted as exhaled and inhaled deeply.

"Jon," Nysa whispered.

Nysa looked to Robb before turning away to look at the table as many of the Northern Lords and guards began to roar in protest. Again, everything was muffled out as her mind ran through all her memories with Jon. She often would spy Lord Stark smiling at them as they often got in trouble together. _We are the same._ Nysa felt the tears left her eyes then. That could be one reason why she had felt closer to Jon than anyone. It wasn't the fact that they were both bastards. No. They were siblings.

"Prince Rhaegar did rape Lyanna Stark then," the Blackfish commented.

Ser Barristan shook his head. "No, that's not what happened." He opened his mouth to explain but didn't get to finish.

The door slammed open, Lord Glover hurrying inside with a small group of guards. "An army approaches, my King."

Robb stood up and glared down at Oberyn as he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table. "We welcome you here and you bring an army?"

"They are a gift to my niece," he looked at Nysa, allowing his eyes to roam towards her swollen stomach, "to celebrate the new heir of Westeros," he paused, "forgive me, the heir of the North."

"How many," Robb looked up at Lord Glover.

"Ten-thousand," Oberyn answered for him, glancing over his shoulder at Lord Glover. "Unless you counted differently, my Lord," he asked with an arrogant tone.

Nysa looked towards Lady Catelyn as if to ask if Prince Oberyn was being serious. Nysa had to admit that finally meeting someone from her mother's family was exciting. She knew that they were from a great House. But the newest revelation - that her father came from royal blood also - had her feeling all sorts of emotions. The statement that Ser Barristan made about her father loving her made her feel light also. She had never known the love of a father - being told that Ser Martyn Cassel was dead. So, for her to hear that, made her soul soar with joy.

She also heard whispers when they walked into the hall that Prince Oberyn could pass as her father, that's how similar the resemblance between the two of them were. And the earlier statement that Prince Oberyn had indicated she looked like her mother made her feel lighter. She had a connection - something that hadn't been there before. She looked like her mother - she had a name and face now to put to that likeness. In the yard, she had almost thrown her arms around Prince Oberyn. Instead, she remembered Lord Stark's words and knew that this was what he had been alluding to.

From what Nysa had heard, House Martell still wanted vengeance for Princess Elia's rape and murder - along with the murder of her son. It was obvious that Prince Oberyn had wanted to join Robb's campaign on the Lannister's to get retribution. Nysa wanted to gain her Uncle's approval - and if she was Rhaenys Targaryen, then she'd demand justice for her mother, her brother, her father and her grandfather. However, she remembered the North - remembered that they lost Lord Stark's father, brother and sister. Jory lost his father - a man she considered her father at one time. The North was not without their losses, either.

"Ten-thousand," Lord Glover confirmed with a nod before Nysa glanced past him to see Obarra, Nymeria, a few guards and three other women enter.

Obarra and Nymeria were both holding prisoners with their heads covered.

"What is the meaning of this," Robb moved around the table and started to walk towards the people who had entered. It was obvious that one of the prisoners was a woman.

"A gift," Prince Oberyn repeated as both prisoners were brought down to their knees.

Obarra stood behind the man and Nymeria behind the woman. At the same time, their hoods were pulled off their heads - revealing the two prisoners.

Everyone seemed to pause in that moment. A few swords were unsheathed while murmurs and gasps filled the hall. Nysa stood also, hurrying towards Robb's side. She looked in horror at the young woman before glancing at her Uncle who had stood and walked towards them.

"My King and Queen, I present to you the Kingslayer," he gestured towards Ser Jamie Lannister himself - bruised and beaten, but otherwise alive. "And here is..."

"Princess Myrcella," Nysa left Robb's side, pulling Myrcella off the ground. "What have you done to her?"

Myrcella looked around in fear before glancing at Ser Jamie, confusion and worry shining in her eyes. "Where am I? Why am I here?"

"It's alright," Nysa replied, moving her to the side. "No one will harm you here."

"Lady Nysa," Myrcella looked her up and down - both in confusion and fear. "I don't understand," she shook her head.

Nysa had not one thought of Ser Jamie's presence. The only thing she could think of was seeing Princess Myrcella and wondering how in the seven hells they had brought her here. She had not heard a thing about Myrcella. Could it be that the Dornishmen had attacked King's Landing in secret and taken her? Myrcella clung to Nysa as she looked around, betrayal on her face. It was obvious that she didn't expect Prince Oberyn and his daughters would bring her here.

"Oberyn, you fool!" Ser Jamie moved forward, still bound. "Robb Stark, I beg of you," he pleaded. "Let her go. Your fight is with me! Let her go, I'm begging."

"Oh," Robb stepped towards him. "You're begging now?"

A few of the Northern guards began to shout insults at him as Myrcella shook in Nysa's arms.

"Why is she here," Nysa turned back to Prince Oberyn.

"Princess Myrcella Baratheon is betrothed to Prince Trystane Martell," Oberyn answered. "She was already in Dorne."

"Betrothed," Ser Jamie shouted, "and this is how you treat her? Drag her away from Dorne like a savage criminal," he accused. "By the Gods, have you no..."

"You won't speak to me about the Gods, Kingslayer," Oberyn nodded to him. "Not after you failed to protect my sister and allowed your men to rape her!"

"Stop! Stop, this is enough," Nysa shouted, gesturing for Roslin, Shirei and Alyx to step forward. "Take the Princess to one of the rooms. Lady Lyra," she called forth as she released Myrcella into Roslin's care - the other Frey women taking Myrcella with them. "Go and watch over her. Make sure no one enters her chambers until you've heard word from me."

"Yes, my Queen," Lyra replied before pointing towards three other guards to follow her.

"Why did you bring her here," Nysa questioned again. "If she truly is betrothed to Prince Trystane then she should have been left in Dorne."

"We thought you could use her as a bargaining chip," Nymeria answered.

"And of what her betrothal," Nysa turned to her cousin. "Surely you know that that betrothal was made to form peace between the crown and Dorne."

"The only way there will be peace between the Crown and Dorne," Oberyn stepped forward, "is if you are sitting on the Iron Throne, my Queen." Nysa shook her head at their reasoning. "Cersei will see to it that her son does everything in his power to get his sister back safely, even if that means releasing Sansa to all of you."

"Foolish idea, if I ever..." A grunt left Ser Jamie's mouth as he doubled over.

Obarra had kicked him roughly.

"Not only that, but I found the Kingslayer for you, niece," Oberyn gestured towards Ser Jamie. "He was traveling with that knight and that woman there," he pointed towards the door, indicating Ser Barristan and the tall woman in man's armor. "If I understand this correctly, you want his head. Apparently, there are crimes that he has committed against House Stark."

"And House Karstark," Harrion reminded.

That one reminder shook Nysa to her core.

"Close the doors," Nysa interrupted. She noticed that Lord Glover had done just as she commanded.

"Nysa," Robb cautioned her as she walked towards Ser Jamie.

"Harrion," she called as he came to stand next to her and Robb. Harrion silently handed her sword over to her.

"Nysa," Lady Catelyn and a few others shouted.

Robb took her arm and pulled her back. He had seen her execute enough people as it was. She shook him off. This time, Ser Barristan attempted to stop her.

"My Queen," Ser Barristan spoke up immediately, moving to stand before Ser Jamie. "Think about what Prince Oberyn has mentioned. Ser Jamie does not need to die."

"Is it true," Nysa questioned, looking back at Prince Oberyn before glancing at Lady Catelyn. "Is it not true that I am Princess Rhaenys Targaryen? Am I the daughter of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Elia Martell? Am I," she shouted as Lady Catelyn shrunk back a little.

"Yes, you are," Lady Catelyn answered.

"My mother was raped and murdered by knights who served House Lannister, men who were commanded by House Lannister, isn't that true?"

"You are alive because of Ser Jamie," Ser Barristan attempted to calm her again. "He didn't..."

She looked at Ser Barristan. "Did you think that it was possible, when you saw me in King's Landing, Ser Barristan," she questioned. "Did you think that I looked like the Princess Elia? Did you think that I was one of the lost Targaryen Princesses?"

Ser Barristan was quiet for a moment before closing his eyes and sighing. He gave her a brief nod before she pushed past him.

"As a young maiden, you took my betrothed from me. As the Queen of the North, you crippled my good-brother. Now - that I am a member of House Targaryen - it seems that your crimes against me have tripled, Ser Jamie," she said, lifting her sword. "For the death of King Aerys Targaryen!"

"Nysa, no," Robb shouted but it was too late.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Supper was a somber affair indeed. Arya had never seen a feast so listless and dull. Her mother tapped her hand as Arya poked around at the food on her plate. She had been told that being five and ten now, she'd be expected to wed. The truth of the matter is that it had never dawned on Robb until their mother pointed it out that a betrothal should be arranged for Arya. She had been happy at Robb's forgetfulness. Now - that her mother had reminded him - it appeared hopeless. And the way her mother kept asking Princess Myrcella questions about Prince Trystane's older brother, Quentyn Martell - Arya knew that this was definitely a somber feast.

"He is a dutiful lad," Ser Barristan commented.

"How very," Robb paused before looking down at her. She widened her eyes in disbelief that he was going to attempt to assuage the situation. "He sounds like a decent young man."

Arya rolled her eyes and turned away from her brother. He may be King, but to her he would always be her brother.

"He is sensible," Myrcella added with a polite smile.

"Then why are you not betrothed to him?"

"Arya," her mother scolded.

Arya wanted to say that she had fought guards and soldiers, had defended her mother while they were being attacked by Bolton and Frey men. Arya had helped Nysa capture Harrenhal for her brother, had commanded Nymeria and Lady to attack those who had betrayed her brother - a King. Myrcella - Arya thought looking at her - contributed to her brother by traveling South to be wed. But no, not Arya. That wasn't her.

She huffed before putting on an equally polite smile and turned to look at the other princess - both carrying the title but handled it so differently. "Forgive me, Princess Myrcella," Arya replied.

"There is no offense taken, Princess Arya."

"I'll take offense," Prince Oberyn said jokingly as he lifted his cup of wine before giving the woman next to him a kiss on her cheek. "For that is my nephew you speak of. Though, I'll admit, he's not the type that would make a young Princess's heart beat faster," he chuckled looking at Princess Arya as she rolled her eyes again in annoyance. "However, he will rule Dorne when the time comes. And that should be enough to make the mind think faster, don't you agree, Lady Stark?"

As if to give her answer, Catelyn Stark turned towards her daughter and gave her a determined look.

"He won't make my heart beat faster, mother," Arya said quietly.

Unfortunately, a few people had heard her statement. One of them being her brother, who quickly covered his mouth to hide the laughter was threatening to bubble forth. Ser Barristan along with the tall woman who accompanied the Kingslayer smiled at her retort.

Nysa remained quiet throughout sup. Every now and then Robb would lean over to pick up her hand and press his lips inside her palm.

"And you, my Queen," Prince Oberyn turned to her. "What are your thoughts of your good-sister and your cousin? It would strengthen the bond between House Stark and House Martell."

Nysa smiled and turned to look at Arya, a pleading look showing on the young woman's face. As if she could read her thoughts, Nysa gave her a nod and turned towards Prince Oberyn.

"I have not had the pleasure of meeting my cousin - Prince Quentyn - so I am unable to give an answer as towards his character. However, I do know my good-sister. And Arya is truly a Princess of the North. Sensible and dutiful aren't qualities that she'll look for. Besides, I think that we should discuss a betrothal for her after we receive Princess Sansa," she replied. "Like Prince Quentyn, Princess Sansa is of a sensible and dutiful nature. Not to mention she," Nysa paused before glancing back at Arya to see an appreciative look on her face that Nysa had directed conversation away from her.

"Sansa enjoys life in the South," Arya added.

"That she does," Nysa finished. "She might adore Dorne."

Nysa turned her attention to her good-mother.

"If that is okay with you, Lady Catelyn."

"Of course," Lady Catelyn nodded. "Sansa would be the sensible choice." There was that word again, Arya thought as her mother smiled. "And I'm certain that she will be glad to leave the Capital."

"Yes, Princess Sansa is a better option for Prince Quentyn," Nysa turned to her Uncle. "Unfortunately, she has been through much. So, any talk of betrothals might not be acceptable to her right now. And besides, I fear that my marriage should be enough to strengthen the bond between House Stark and House Martell," she smiled. "Don't you think so, Prince Oberyn?"

He smiled and nodded. "I do. Of course," he agreed before taking a sip of his wine. "We have more than enough time to speak of betrothals."

"Speaking of which, I believe we should return Princess Myrcella to hers," Nysa prompted. "Wouldn't you agree, Kingslayer?"

The ultimate reason why there was tension at sup, Arya concluded as everyone looked towards the Kingslayer trying to stab a piece of pork with his hand. Nysa had insisted on him eating dinner with them. To her - this was humiliation at its finest. Death would have been too simple. So, instead she had swung her sword, cutting off his hand, piercing his feet and of course scarred his face. He wasn't the same knight she had remembered meeting in the North.

"I think you should keep me and Princess Myrcella here," he answered with a smirk as he continued his attempts at piercing the pork.

Nysa sighed and turned towards Alyx. "Lady Alyx, please help the Kingslayer..."

A sudden, loud bang stopped her. Nysa turned to see the tall woman had stuck a knife in the pork, assisting the Kingslayer with eating his meal. Alyx looked towards Nysa before the young Queen waved her hand, informing the young woman that she could return to her post.

"You staying here presents a problem, however," Robb interjected.

"How so, young Wolf?"

"Many of my men want you dead," he answered, gesturing towards a few people. "You've killed their fathers, brothers, sons."

"And you haven't killed the sons of those of House Lannister," the Kingslayer questioned.

"My Queen has kept many young men from House Lannister alive and well."

"From what I've heard, it's not her first time either," the Kingslayer teased looking at her.

Robb took a deep breath before leaning forward, drawing the attention back on him. "You've insulted my Queen. Is there a reason why I should let you live," Robb asked him.

"Because I allowed the young Queen to live," Ser Jamie replied.

Nysa titled her head. "I always believed that you found the words of a bastard girl a moving sentiment."

"I found the words of a Princess moving," he inclined his head. She opened her mouth, but Jamie continued. "Yes, I knew who you were. The moment the guards asked to kill you for shooting an arrow at me, I knew who you were."

Nysa narrowed her eyes at him as he chuckled - still the arrogant, confident piece of shit that he was despite half of his face being bandaged, missing a hand and walking with a limp. Robb would chastise her for it later but she felt a sudden urge of anger that she could not understand. And perhaps it was the fact that her emotions and thoughts were all over the place with regards being Rhaenys, being a Targaryen and learning that Jon was your kin.

Lady Catelyn and Ser Brynden had already explained to her the consequences of her actions. Tywin Lannister would not take kindly to her knowing that she had dismembered and scarred his son - a Kingsguard to the royal crown. If Tywin heard of what she had done, he would bring all of the seven hells with him upon the Twins. Not even House Martell's army could protect them.

Instead of apologizing for her actions, Nysa rubbed her stomach and stated very plainly that Tywin Lannister had betrayed her first. She was simply repaying the debt. Naturally, she did feel guilty for cutting off the Kingslayer's hand - especially if the words of Ser Barristan were true.

"Why do you think I apologized to you, my Queen," the Kingslayer leaned forward, interrupting her thoughts. "I saw your father's eyes in yours - the same eyes who asked me to keep his family safe. Though I may have been loath to guard King Aerys - the man that your father was," he shook his head. "I knew that he would be a good King. I knew that he would do the right thing, the honorable thing - not just by his family but also by the people of Westeros. I failed your father once, I wasn't going to do that again."

"So, you didn't say who I was even though you knew," Nysa whispered.

"Even though I knew," the Kingslayer nodded.

"Are you saying that you kept her identity safe while she was in King's Landing, while you could have told Robert Baratheon who she was," questioned Ser Perwyn.

"That's two Kings that you have betrayed," Ser Danwell spoke up.

"How many of you turned your back on your father," Jamie asked him then he shifted his eyes around the room. "How many Freys were killed by your Queen and yet you serve her loyally? Don't mock me for my betrayal, House Frey."

"It is because my Queen has shown them mercy," Robb replied. "The question still stands, Kingslayer. Should I decide to keep you alive? Or should I let you spark another rebellion."

"You're the one who sparked a rebellion against the crown," he pointed towards them with the fork in his hand.

"On the contrary," Robb raised Nysa's hand in his, pressing another kiss to her palm. "I believe I'm sitting next to the only person who should be sitting on the Iron Throne. House Lannister is the one who rebelled."

Ser Jamie shook his head. "I'm sure you know the story of the last Targaryens. You accuse me of such after all," his voice rose.

Nysa huffed. "Yes, we know the story very well. House Lannister murdered Prince Viserys and the baby Prince Aegon. Then they had Princess Elia raped and murdered as well. Not to mention that one of those Lannisters," she eyed him, "is known as a _Kingslayer_. You murdered my grandfather."

The Kingslayer smirked and leaned back in his chair - every one of his movements studied carefully by the guards that surrounded them. "You were never really close to him - your grandfather that is. Both he and your father believed that your brother, Aegon, was the 'Prince that was promised'. They doted on him."

"That's quite enough," Ser Barristan said in a softer tone.

"Of course," Ser Jamie nodded to him before relaxing slightly.

"It still doesn't answer my husband's question," Nysa tilted her head at him. "Should he allow you to live? Your argument seems to stem from the fact that you've kept me alive."

"On more than one occasion, too," Ser Jamie smiled as Nysa clearly looked unconvinced. He looked around the room at everyone. They too, didn't believe him. "Why don't we start from the beginning," he offered. "Did you ever wonder how you came to be under House Stark's protection?"

"Lord Stark found me," Nysa replied simply.

For a brief moment it was quiet until Ser Barristan cleared his throat. "Ser Jamie had been the one who suggested to your father that either you or Aegon should get out of the Capital, my Queen."

"Impossible," Prince Oberyn shouted as did a few others.

"I begged your father to go with him," the Kingslayer continued. "Suggested that someone else could guard the mad-King Aerys, but your father said that the King commanded me to stay back. Everyone else was leaving," he explained, "I looked out at my sworn brothers, experienced and battle-ready. I wanted to go out, too. I wanted to defend your father, defend the crown. Instead, he told me to stay back and protect his family, protect your mother and your brother and you."

Nysa's eyes blurred with tears before she turned away. Robb's hand squeezing hers comfortingly.

"During that discussion, I questioned why he had not sent your mother and the rest of you to Dorne. Under King Aerys' command, you all were to be left in the Capital, the same way I was - in the hopes to keep House Martell and House Lannister as loyal supporters to the crown," Ser Jamie leaned back in the chair. "I made the conscious decision that he should take you South - further away from any attack that could come towards the Capital, should he fail."

"She never made it to Dorne," Prince Oberyn responded.

"Prince Rhaegar had us separate from the young Princess's entourage a couple days out," Ser Barristan sighed heavily. "Robert Baratheon's army drew closer. He placed her in the care of..."

"Orning Sword."

Every head turned towards the Queen. The memory of her seeing Riverrun, being in the Riverlands had brought up that memory for a reason. She had been there before - not necessarily there, but the river had made sense. It was by a river that her father parted from her. He was riding off into battle and she was going off to the Tower of Joy. All the dreams that she had been having were making sense now. Arriving in King's Landing had triggered a few. Staying in the Riverlands had awakened others. Now that Ser Jamie and Ser Barristan were telling her stories of her father, the more things were falling into place.

"Amie," Nysa whispered.

Ser Jamie looked at her with a kinder smile this time. He gave her a brief nod. "That's what you called me."

"And Ser Borris," she turned towards Ser Barristan - as he smiled and nodded in acknowledgement at the old sentiment. "Aggy," she closed her eyes the memory reliving in her mind. "He always scolded me for saying the names wrong," she shook her head.

 _"You'll sit on the Iron Throne one day," a man's voice said._

She inhaled a deep breath, sucking in the air as the memory came into focus.

 _There he sat, Prince Rhaegar - her father - with her brother Aggy on his knee. They looked like each other - silver hair and violet eyes - her father and her brother. The infant turned around and touched her mother's long dark hair, holding up a fistful of her own hair and comparing it. Aggy looked like Papa. But she looked like their Mama._

"I wanted silver hair, like my father," Nysa said, her eyes still closed as she explained the memory. "Aggy got to sit on the throne with Papa. I thought if I had hair like them, then I," she paused and deeply exhaled. "Aggy didn't like it when our father would let me sit on his lap, let me play by the throne."

"Your father loved you, my Queen," Ser Barristan said gently. "Sons belonged to the people, to the crown," he said. "But daughters were always their father's hearts."

"My mother would carry me away from my father until Aggy was placated. This memory," she shook her head, "on this day, he wasn't calming down."

 _Aggy sat closer to Papa. And she saw her Papa's eyes lock with Mama's. They didn't like it when she and Aggy fought. Turning away from her brother, she noticed a hand touch her mother's shoulder before a man leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. When he looked up at Rhaenys, her little hands began to clap in excitement. The guard took her from her mother before throwing her up in the air, catching her and tickling her as the little Princess's laughter filled the throne room._

"Prince Ewyn was my favorite Kingsguard," she exhaled as her eyes opened. "He would call me Westeros' little sun dragon." A small laugh escaped from her lips. "He'd call Aggy spoiled."

"Our Uncle, Prince Lewyn Martell," Prince Oberyn nodded. "He was a good knight."

"He was a good man," Ser Jamie added as he studied the young Queen. "I suppose he favored you as well, despite Aegon being the eldest. You and your mother were reminders of home, reminders of why he took an oath to serve as a Kingsguard."

"Don't talk about my family as though you knew them, Kingslayer," Prince Oberyn snarled.

"I watched Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys walk their first steps, speak their first words. On more than one occasion I had to carry Princess Elia to her chambers because she fainted from a headache. And I kept a watchful eye on Princess Elia and Prince Rhaegar when they took walks through the gardens in the Capital, when they broke fast in their chambers with their children. Those were the memories of House Targaryen that I enjoy, the memories that every Kingsguard should have. Not the sounds of King Aerys raping and beating his wife, not the sounds of King Aerys burning and murdering innocents," Ser Jamie shouted before turning his head to the side, coughing in a fit of hysteria.

Prince Oberyn scoffed. "Where were you when men from House Lannister raped and murdered my sister, murdered her son? Where were you then?"

"We all know where he was, father," replied Nymeria.

"That's right," Prince Oberyn growled at him, "you were murdering the King - the very King you swore to protect."

The arguing brought on another painful memory to Nysa's mind.

 _The infant's feet padded towards the large door. The maids came out of the room, not noticing her. She sleepily looked around for someone to take a hold of her but no one came. Someone always came. She looked to the door again._

 _"Papa," her tiny voice called out._

 _A soldier had walked down the hallway and through the door. Perhaps that could have been her father returning from his adventure. She was not certain. Another maid came to exit the room and finally took notice of her, guiding her into the room with a concerned look on her face. The child was scared at first. She had heard shouting and screaming earlier. But her anxiety lifted upon knowing whose room she was coming to._

 _"Lya," she screamed in excitement._

 _She ran past the maid only to stop at the foot of the bed and notice that the young woman lying there was in pain._

 _"Lya?"_

 _"Come," a voice said. So she climbed up on the bed, slowly and looked over to the guard sat there as well. It was not her Papa. "Princess," he addressed her with a tight voice._

 _The young woman called for the soldier._

 _She sounded hurt. "Lya..."_

 _"Stay there," the guard growled at the child._

 _She retracted her hand quickly, narrowing her eyes at the soldier. No one talked to her like that. She looked at him - her face scrunching up in frustration. He wasn't Ewyn, Bull, Orning, Borris or Amie. What was he doing here?_

Nysa gasped and stood up suddenly, drawing attention away from the arguing. Robb stood as well, along with Lady Catelyn and Ser Bryden. Prince Oberyn jumped up and was ready to go to her but was waved away by Smalljon.

"Forgive me," Nysa said in a quiet tone before wiping the tears that were in her eyes. "I fear this is too much for me. I must retire for night."

"I will go with you," Robb insisted.

"Stay," Nysa squeezed his hand. "I trust your judgement," she insisted.

There was still a lot to discuss. Prince Oberyn and the Dornishmen army presented one problem. How could Robb trust them? A part of him was glad for the reinforcements, but they had come at a price. He always knew that Nysa's mother came from a great House in the South - he just never expected that House to have royal blood. Then, there was Ser Barristan - former Kingsguard to King Aerys and King Robert. And now he was desiring to serve Nysa.

Robb had it set in his mind to pardon Ser Barristan as well as Lady Brienne - the woman who swore an oath to his mother. He'd allow Lady Brienne to guard his mother. From what he had heard, she was a fierce fighter - the same as or perhaps even better than the ladies of House Mormont. He had forgiven his mother while they were in Riverrun - had confided in her, had recognized that now was the time for them to stick together. The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. That's what his father had always told him, told Sansa and Arya, told Bran and Rickon. The only way they were going to survive this war, survive Winter, was if they learned to work together. It would do him no good now to hold a grudge against his mother.

As far as Ser Jamie's punishment went, he felt that Nysa had overreacted and in a fit of anger had delivered her own sense of justice. They were supposed to work together - she was his Queen and he was her King. The decision should have been both of theirs.

"House Martell," he questioned.

Nysa glanced at her Uncle. "I trust him. However, you should ensure that his daughters know their place. They may be kin to me, but remind him that they hold no authority over you. If you accept their allegiance, then I'll agree with you."

"Ser Barristan," he stated.

"Joffrey removed him for defending your father," Nysa replied. "Do what you feel is best. As for the Kingslayer," Nysa looked at him. "I'm too emotional now to decide," she shook her head, turning to face Robb. And he could see it in her eyes - the conflict brewing inside. "He's killed many, I understand. But these memories aren't helping me decide his punishment."

"Would you be upset with me if I decide to execute him," Robb questioned.

Nysa shook her head before glancing once more at the Kingslayer. "A Lannister isn't the only one who pays his debt," she said loudly as she watched the Kingslayer's face fall slightly.

She touched Robb's hand before Lady Tyta and a few others had walked her out, towards their chamber. Robb turned away to look at Ser Jamie before nodding towards a few guards to detain him once more.

* * *

Lady Catelyn had followed Nysa out of the hall, sensing her distress and wanting to speak with her further. However, Nysa didn't want to speak with Lady Catelyn at the moment - especially not after the memory she just had. However, Catelyn dismissed the young Frey women and decided to assist Nysa with preparing for bed. She glanced at the swollen middle of her good-daughter, thinking that it would be anytime now.

She encouraged Nysa to sit down before she smoothed out her hair, untangling the braid. Once that was done, she leaned forward and pressed her lips towards Nysa's head. "I know that you may be upset with me, but Ned and I only wanted to keep you safe."

"I know," she whispered.

Catelyn touched Nysa's shoulders, massaging it lightly as Nysa closed her eyes. "Are you worried about how you'll be received by the Northerners," Catelyn asked. "They love you."

"They love Nysa Snow," Nysa's eyes opened. "The daughter of the man who kidnapped and raped Lyanna Stark," she questioned, before shaking her head. "Or the granddaughter of the man who burned Lord Rickard Stark and had Brandon Stark murdered," Nysa sniffed as she felt the tears come to her eyes. "No," she added softly, "they wouldn't love that Queen."

Catelyn took a deep breath and moved to sit down next to her good-daughter. "They love _you_ ," she repeated, turning Nysa to face her. "You've done things that would make your father and mother so proud of you, that have made Ned and I proud to raise you."

She didn't know why she decided to bring it up but something clenched in her heart. "What about Jon?"

Catelyn's hand froze slightly on Nysa's shoulder before she removed her hand slowly and looked down at her lap. There hadn't been much discussion about Jon. And as much as everyone had argued about her father and Lyanna Stark, no one had really talked about Jon. If Jon truly was the son of Prince Rhaegar, then Nysa was going to consider changing Robb's terms to legitimize Jon as a Targaryen.

"Do you remember the story I told you of Ned coming back to me in Riverrun," Catelyn asked after some time.

Nysa nodded. "It was a happy reunion, one that I had hoped to have with Robb."

Catelyn laughed lightly. "It may have started out that way with Ned and I, but it changed - very quickly."

 _"That must be your son, my Lord. He is probably wondering why it is that we have not attended to him as of yet."_

 _She smiled and went to the crib only to pause when she spotted two babes in there._

 _Catelyn's hands moved the blankets on the side, blankets she had sewn for their son. Her heart began to beat wildly again only for her hand to drop. She recognized her son immediately. But the other, she thought as she turned towards her husband._

 _"Cat..."_

 _"He looks like a Stark," she whispered._

 _"Let me explain."_

 _"Why does he look like you," she questioned. "Why does he have your coloring? Why does he have your eyes?"_

 _"It is not what you think."_

 _Ned reached for her but she pulled back. Her eyes began to water and she shook her head. A lot of things happened while men went to war._

 _"I am hers..."_

 _"I am his..."_

 _Words they recited to one another before he left, before he left her. Did they mean nothing to him? Just because her father did not believe in fathering bastards did not mean that her husband would have. But she had believed him, thought that he had cared for her. He had missed her, he said. She looked at the cradle and decided, he obviously had not missed her that much._

 _She hurried back to the crib and took Robb out of there hastily, causing him to cry. With Rhaenys in her other arm she made for the door, carrying the two children desperately wishing to hide away._

 _"Catelyn, please..."_

 _"Leave me be," she said._

 _Ned reached for her. "I am sorry. At least let me look at my son."_

 _"You can look at that one in there," she nodded towards the crib, as the babe started to cry. "I never thought that you would ever..."_

 _"I am so sorry. I..."_

 _He finally reached her but she nudged him back with her elbow. "Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me!" She fled the room as Ned closed his eyes and broke down in tears. It was going to be a long journey home._

She stopped in her memory, a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh escaped her mouth. "I had been so angry with him," Catelyn explained. "I knew that it happened - Lords always took mistresses, many of them fathered bastards. I thought that it would be different, that he was different," she shook her head and looked out towards the opposite end of the wall. "Men lose themselves in war - that's what my father told me when I informed him that Ned had Jon. I may not have loved Ned then, but it still hurt," she gripped her dress near her heart. "I had thought that him returning to me, that night we spent together when he whispered that he missed me, that it meant something. And in one brief moment, seeing Jon there, took that away from me."

Catelyn wiped her eyes as Nysa blinked back her own tears and looked away.

"When we returned to Winterfell, I never let him touch Robb - wouldn't even allow them to be in the same room. Robb was mine. He could have Jon," she laughed and shook her head again. "I forgot myself. My one act of un-ladylike conduct, I'm afraid," she turned to Nysa with a gentle smile. "My duty was to my husband, regardless of how he offended me."

She sniffed again before lifting her head and putting on a brave face.

"Ned had a Sept built for me - I guess it was in the hopes that we would reconcile," Catelyn smiled and nodded. "He did many things to accommodate me, yet I remained stubborn." She released a giggle and turned to take Nysa's hand in hers. "One night, Robb was throwing a fit. And I was in the Sept. So the maids had called Ned. When I was finally made aware of it, I rushed back to the nursery."

 _His hands touched Robb's cheek as his crying died down. His thumb rubbed against his chin, his arms and his tiny foot that peaked out from the furs. The child began to laugh. Robb gave his father a smile when his laughter died down. Ned smiled then too because that was a ticklish spot for every Stark and it seems that his son was not an exception to that._

 _"You may look like a Tully but inside you are all Stark," Ned commented._

 _The child began to babble and move around more until Ned took him to the window. Ned chuckled then as his son's eyes seemed to widen at the sight._

 _"This my son, is Winterfell. This is your home. You will become Lord over it one day," he kissed his forehead as Robb's two hands smashed his father's face and babbled something else. "Aye, I know there is still time for us to worry about that. But know that you are always a Stark. And Starks, we protect our family, we guide those under our care, never disrespect the Gods and always handle matters in a just way," he smiled as Robb settled in his arms, moving his head to rest on his shoulder. "Do that and you will have nothing to fear, Robb Stark."_

 _Catelyn had entered a while ago to see the scene. She had smiled at the sight of father and son. It was something she had longed to see in Riverrun before everything had fallen down in dismay. As if to remind her of what was the cause of her sadness, a sudden cry was heard. She knew that Jon had been put somewhere in the Keep - Ned's sister's old room. She bit back the unladylike speech that threatened to leave her lips when she had heard about that. What hurt more was that she was not told about it by her husband or the Maester here. No, she heard the serving girls gossiping about it._

 _They had already treated her indifferently upon her arrival. Lord Rickard Stark had married his children to Southern houses. Eddard had married her and Lyanna had been betrothed to Robert Baratheon from the Stormlands. There were a lot who felt that Rickard had snubbed his nose at the other noble houses here. And it was apparent that a few of the small folk had thought the same, especially when the Sept was built for her. It was disrespectful to the old Gods that she had brought her faith here, she heard the murmurs. Despite this she did her best to take care of her responsibilities as Lady of the House - minus the one to her Lord husband._

 _She released a deep sigh and took a step forward. Perhaps she could converse politely with him. She was - after all - a Lady._

 _"He is not my son," Ned told his wife as she walked further into the room._

 _For a moment she faltered in her steps. Was it because Robb did not look like that other thing crying down the hall that he wouldn't acknowledge him? Robb obviously favored the Tully line but was he insinuating something else? She knew her duty, she knew to keep her honor intact until the marriage bed. Brandon and her shared a couple stolen kisses but nothing as passionate as what she shared with Ned. And now he had the gall to insinuate that she had been dishonorable?_

 _"Are you accusing me of..."_

 _"Jon," Ned tore his eyes away from Robb. Catelyn narrowed her eyes at the mention of that baby. "Jon is not mine."_

 _The hardness turned soft as she looked away. "I never thought that you would be the one to take a mistress. They had told me that Brandon would." Ned sighed and held Robb closer to him as the boy slept on his shoulder. "I had heard rumors that he already had. But they told me that Eddard Stark," she laughed, "he would be faithful to me. He is honorable."_

 _"And I have been Cat."_

 _"Don't," she shook her head. "That child over there," she pointed as tears began to run down her face, "that child!"_

 _While Ned had been away, she carried his child. She bore his child. She raised him, refused a wet nurse to come and help her. This was their child, their firstborn son, the heir to Winterfell. He had been just like every other man. Her father told her she could stay in Riverrun for a bit longer but she didn't want to give the people any more reason to whisper. Either that or she didn't want to give Ned another opportunity to father more children._

 _"Cat," Ned whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. In the time that she had been crying, Ned had put Robb back to sleep by Nysa and walked over to comfort his wife. "Jon belongs to Lyanna," he whispered as she pulled back and looked up at him._

 _Ned reached his hand wipe and gently wiped his wife's tears away._

 _"I don't understand," she replied, because honestly it didn't make any sense at all._

 _"When I went there and found Lyanna, she had just birth a child," Ned told her softly. "That child is Jon."_

 _"But she was," Catelyn shook her head. The worst thought came into her head - the rumors about Prince Rhaegar abducting and raping Lyanna came into her head. Was it true?_

 _"Lyanna wasn't taken as we had thought," he sighed. "I thought she was hurt, we all thought she was."_

 _"She went willingly," Catelyn questioned in shock, still in disbelief. "But she was betrothed!"_

 _"I should have known, more so than any of them. She never wanted to wed Robert. She," he looked past Cat and a sudden memory of Robert kissing a kitchen maid as Ned tried to dance with Lyanna to distract her. She had seen him though. After the song had finished, she whispered that she had known. "She knew of the company he kept."_

 _"So, she left him to bed another," Catelyn snorted. "And another that already had a wife and children? He may have been a Prince but she was a Lady."_

 _The look on his wife's face made Ned chuckle. She would not be his wife unless she saw the inappropriateness of it all. "I do not know everything, only that she was not taken. And that she named him Rhaegon."_

 _She then turned to look up at him. "Why didn't you say anything earlier? Why would you have my father think that you had betrayed me? Why would you bring us here to Winterfell having everyone believe that..."_

 _"Because the father is Rhaegar, the same as Nysa. I couldn't leave a child there to be butchered," he looked to Nysa who shifted further to Robb. "Even more so for Jon since he is Lyanna's."_

 _"So, you made me believe that you had fathered him?"_

 _"How else could I keep him safe? You did not see Robert in his grief and anger. You did not see the things that he allowed the Lannisters to do. If they had known or heard that Lyanna's child by Rhaegar was alive," Ned snorted. "Jon would have faced the same fate as the rest of them. Lyanna wanted me to take him to Rhaegar," he shook his head. "How could I tell her that he was dead, dead at the hands of Robert? She was already dying. The maids had said there was nothing more they could do. The birthing was hard for her," Ned gripped the edge of the bed where his son and Nysa slept._

 _"Aye," Catelyn nodded, "I know how birthing a child could be."_

 _Ned turned to see a small smile playing on her lips and he released a light chuckle. "I'm sorry I could not be there for you and ours," he glanced at Robb before turning back to her. "When my sister lay there, I thought to myself that she should not have been alone. You should not have been alone."_

 _Catelyn walked forward and took his hand in hers. It was there in her eyes and in her soft touch, she was no longer angry with him._

 _"Forgive me for that as well. I am grateful for Robb, truly I am. It was only after seeing Lyanna there that I realized I had a son and wife that I had left alone as well. You brought him into this world. And I did not get a chance to say this in Riverrun but I love you all the more for it Catelyn Stark. I made a promise to you. I know this is not the marriage you wanted but I made an oath that I will cherish and honor you for as long as we both live. I will be there for you when you birth every child from here on."_

 _Catelyn released a joyful sob before Ned pulled her into his arms. She felt his lips press against her forehead and melted into him._

 _"I love you Eddard Stark," she whispered before lifting her head up. Their lips met briefly before they heard a shuffle on the bed._

 _Both heads turned to see Nysa sitting up._

 _"Two Targaryen babes," Catelyn shook her head._

 _"I know it is a lot to ask but..."_

 _"Children are innocent," she smiled at him. And his heart felt light that she had agreed to keep them safe._

 _"Wob," Nysa's tiny voice whispered._

 _"No, little princess," Catelyn pulled away from her husband and went to scoop up Nysa in her arms. "We must not wake Robb. He may look like a Tully but he has the temper of a Stark," she smiled at Ned. Ned smiled back feeling content that he had spoken to her. "I just need to know one thing Ned," she rocked Nysa. "Would you ever have told me about Jon?"_

 _"The thought crossed my mind more than once," Ned nodded. "I did not want to dispute it back in Riverrun because I did not know who to trust there. I am not saying that your family is untrustworthy. It is only due to the fact that I did not want any whispers to get out that..."_

 _"That the children were alive," she finished for him as Nysa settled in her arms. Catelyn began to stroke Nysa's hair, glad that it was brown and not silver. It would be easier to hide her, easier to pass her off as the daughter of Martyn Cassel._

 _"If I told you then, if I told your father or anyone in the household, who knows what ears would hear. And to be completely honest, I didn't enjoy sleeping in another part of the castle from you and our son," he told her as she turned to him with a kind, gentle smile - the smile that he had come to appreciate since he had wed her. It was a smile that told him, he was doing the right thing by her and that she was happy with him._

 _"I am sorry."_

 _"You have nothing to be sorry for," he replied. "I understand that taking both Rhaenys and Rhaegon will be difficult. We've already changed their names. And I know that you'll have to endure certain rumors."_

 _Catelyn snorted. "I wish I could tell them," her bottom lip trembled. "Tell all the serving maids who snicker and point, that my husband has been faithful to me. I pray I could..." Ned came to stand by her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders gently so that she could rest against him. "I will pray to the Mother for strength and courage. I will..."_

 _"And I will be there with you, every step of the way," Ned added which made Catelyn burst out in tears of happiness._

 _Nysa turned slightly to touch Ned's face, patting his cheek as if to say that 'it would be okay'._

 _Ned sighed. "She would not leave Jon's side or mine. As I said earlier, she seemed to have formed a bond with Lyanna. I guess seeing me and Jon reminded her of Lyanna."_

 _"Wob," Nysa mumbled but burrowed her head on Catelyn's shoulder._

 _"And now she will not leave our son's side," Catelyn teased as Ned smiled._

 _"You were the one who settled her in with Robb," he reminded her._

 _"That will no doubt cause problems for us later."_

This time it was Nysa who chose to snort and shake her head. Catelyn looked over at her with a smile, glad that she could lighten the mood from such a somber tale. Catelyn conveying her feelings and the depth of them to Nysa made her see Lady Catelyn in a wonderful light. She had previously thought the world of Lady Catelyn, which had been tainted by the discovery that she released the Kingslayer, but now, Nysa thought. Now, seeing the things that Lady Catelyn went through and had to overcome, made her appreciate the woman and all that she had done.

"Rhaegon Targaryen," Catelyn repeated with a deep inhaling of her breath. "That's what Lyanna whispered to Ned. Jon is your brother, Nysa."

"He has to be told," Nysa replied softly.

"Aye," Catelyn agreed. "He still hasn't sent word about the legitimization as a Stark. Speak to Robb about it, about proclaiming Jon as Rhaegon. I'm sure that there are documents somewhere, or someone who can confirm that he is - other than me and Lord Reed."

Nysa's face perked up at this as she turned suddenly to Lady Catelyn.

"You've heard the story of the fight at the Tower of Joy - where Ned rode there with several Northmen. The only two to survive where Ned and Howland Reed," Catelyn reminded her. "He knows Jon's secret. He was there, helped Ned take care of you and Jon."

"He knows who I am, too?" Catelyn nodded. "Do you think Ser Barristan knows about Jon?"

"I think we should hear his story, your father's side of the story," Catelyn reminded her.

Nysa looked away, down towards her lap. "I had a memory while we were in the hall. I saw Lord Stark and his sister Lyanna," Nysa's eyebrows furrowed. "He was about the same height as Jon - skinnier though."

Catelyn laughed lightly. "I always thought that Ned had picked up some weight as we grew older. He still was handsome to me, always was," she smiled contently. "But he was skinnier and a bit shorter in his early years," she agreed with a small laugh before turning to take Nysa's hands in hers. "Is that what made you jump up from your seat earlier?"

She nodded. "I wondered what he was doing there. He wasn't any knight or guard that I remembered. He was new, but Lya looked happy to see him. She asked for forgiveness and made him promise," Nysa shook her head. "I still can't understand a lot of it because all I could think of was that he didn't belong there. Now, as the Kingslayer mentioned, I am so glad that it was Lord Stark who found me. I think anyone else and they may have murdered me. I was - still am - Prince Rhaegar's daughter."

Catelyn pulled Nysa into her arms, rubbing her back as the young Queen began to cry softly.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

Ser Rolph Spicer watched his niece prepare for tomorrow morning's departure. Her husband was one of the few Frey men who would not be riding into battle. Instead, the King had entrusted him to ensure Riverrun and the Twin's protection. Oswell's father would hold a garrison at Harrenhal to protect a second attack, should Lord Tywin decide to send an army that way.

Shaking his head, he turned away to look back at the hall - the laughter and discussions happening inside.

That dragon whore had wedded his niece to a Frey. He cursed before walking down the steps, pushing his way through the crowd. She had burned those who had conspired against her and her King, set the men of House Frey up in flames, had those crazed mutts attack them. House Bolton was on the run. The North was reclaimed, and the King's bastard brother had been told. They were annihilating everyone.

But he was still here.

"What do you think," Jeyne bounded towards him, a genuine smile on her face. She was in love with her husband - that much was obvious. And he hated the Queen even more for it. "The Queen said that there is a small godswood within Harrenhal's walls. She hopes the next time she and the King visit, I will have it looking beautiful that they may hold a tourney there. Can you imagine it, Uncle," she smiled with excitement. "I would be a hostess to a tourney where the King and Queen are present."

"And what a lovely hostess you will make," her husband came towards her, picking Jeyne up in his arms and twirling her around.

Jeyne cried out in bliss, playfully demanding that he put her down.

They were besotted with one another.

He turned away from the scene to look out at his nephew, Raynald. Raynald was being left in charge of a small army of Frey men - they would spy on the Lannister forces and inform the King of any movement.

This isn't what he had planned. Jeyne was supposed to seduce the young King, take his attentions away from his wife and the tension would cause the North and Riverlands to tear apart - allowing House Bolton and House Frey to destroy the King in the North and his hidden Targaryen Queen. He shook his head and looked down. Tywin should be informed about this new development. But Rolph knew that it would be best that he stayed near the Twins or perhaps his nephew, so he could gather more information.

Tywin would want more information - that cunning lion, Rolph thought with another shake of his head. If he could be the one to supply detailed information about this supposed Targaryen Queen, then perhaps Tywin Lannister would double the rewards for him and his sister. House Bolton and House Frey had failed, but House Spicer was not.

"Uncle," Jeyne touched his arm, pulling him away from his musings.

"I think it's very lovely, Jeyne," he nodded. "Your father is returning home, I understand?"

She nodded eagerly before her husband kissed her cheek and departed. "I will see you," she told him as their hands slowly slipped from one another.

 _"My sister is happy," Raynald argued._

 _"Your mother is upset," Lord Gawen informed his son._

 _"Father," Raynald walked closer to his father, "Jeyne confided in me. She doesn't want to be a part of mother's plots. They've gotten us nowhere. Do you know how kind it was of the Queen to wed Jeyne to a decent Frey - one that has treated her admirably and adores her? I don't know of many Queens who would allow young women who desired to become their husband's mistress to be given such liberties."_

 _"Your mother has sent a raven to Lord Tywin..."_

 _"I don't care about that."_

 _"You should," Rolph spoke up. "This is our family. And we're allowing that bastard Queen..."_

 _"She's not a bastard," Raynald argued. "Did you not hear what they are saying of her? Not to mention that she used fire to burn half of House Frey! Only a Targaryen could do something like that!"_

 _"Tywin Lannister swatted House Targaryen as though they were nothing," Rolph reminded his nephew. "He could do it again. We'll help him do it again. He'll give us a place among the great Houses."_

 _Raynald stepped back. "Not with me and Jeyne."_

Gawen had decided against it as well. Raynald had convinced his father that Jeyne was happy, satisfied where she had been placed. But there was always more. House Lannister would have given them a better offer. He narrowed his eyes at Raynald's company preparing to depart. "I think I'll go with your brother," Ser Rolph informed Jeyne as she smiled at him. "I want to see what sort of defense he'll set up."

"He does a decent job of things."

"Aye, he does. But I want to make sure. After all, he'll be protecting you also," he turned to his niece, giving her a false smile.

* * *

"I still can't believe you're going," Nysa commented as she shook her head annoyingly at Harrion Karstark.

Harrion had been walking her around the Twins, looking at the gardens and the various changes that had happened in recent days. "The Maester said that walking is good exercise for women whom find themselves with child. I decided to join you because I still do not trust House Frey," he chuckled before she reached over and hit his arm.

He looked behind them to see Lady Tyta narrow her eyes at him, but she otherwise kept her post, guarding the Queen. Along with her were two young Frey women - Alyx and Merianne - Wyl, a guard from Winterfell, Corgan and Roland Blackwood, Lord Blackwood's nephews, and of course the Dornish woman they called 'Lady Nym'.

"I don't trust the Dornish, either," he whispered but from the way Lady Nym's eyes fell upon him, it was obvious that she heard his comment.

"May I remind you that I'm half Dornish," she replied with a smile.

"To me you'll always be from the North," he smiled back at her, turning away from the guards accompanying her. " _And_ your father just happens to be Prince Rhaegar Targaryen"

"I know," Nysa sighed. "I'm still having a tough time wrapping my mind around the matter."

"What still amazes me about all of this is that Lord Stark was willing to betroth a Princess of the Iron Throne to House Karstark," Harrion teased.

"I believe he knew that House Karstark would take care of me," she looked up at Harrion as all teasing disappeared. "He knew Torrhen would care for me." Harrion smiled, pressing a kiss upon her forehead. "Do you object of how I handled Ser Jamie?"

"He is Ser Jamie now," he shook his head.

"Harrion..."

"What happened to 'Kingslayer'? You listened to his sad stories and immediately let your emotions override your good sense."

"I do not want us to argue about it. I do not want House Karstark to think that I forgot about Torrhen."

Harrion scoffed. "So, you still think of my brother, do you?"

"I'll always think of him. You're treating me unfairly, Harrion," she sighed heavily, feeling her eyes grow heavy with tears. Nysa's feelings always varied these days and Lady Catelyn explained to her that most women tend to feel a wide range of emotions when they are with child. At the same time, she didn't want to sound like a child herself. "What is it that you wished for me to do? We need to get Sansa back."

"This isn't some desperate attempt to claim the crown? He'll betray you the same way he betrayed your grandfather."

"With what hand," she questioned with an incredulous tone. "I cut off his sword hand. I stabbed his foot, causing him to limp - possibly for life. Those are things he has to endure now, the same that you and I have to endure Torrhen's loss." Harrion looked away from her. "Harrion, please. I do not want us to argue anymore. At least..."

Harrion paused in their walking, so abruptly that it caused Lady Tyta and Lady Nym to go on the defensive. He snarled at them before marching towards Lady Nym. "The Queen doesn't need protecting from me. I would never harm her, and she knows it."

"Then perhaps, Lord Karstark, you should watch how you treat the Queen," she threatened.

"Stop this," Nysa said in a stern tone, picking up her dress and walking towards them. During their small altercation, Corgan Blackwood had moved the two young Frey women behind him as Wyl and Roland had drawn their swords in anticipation of an attack. At Nysa's command, they all had eased up - except Harrion. She touched his shoulder which made him take a step back and away from Lady Nym. "Please, Harrion," she said softly as he looked at her. "As for what Lord Karstark said, is correct," she looked at her cousin. "I trust him. Please," she gestured to the dagger her cousin was holding which she twirled and placed it back into strap at her side.

Harrion was holding the hilt of his sword and released it when he saw the Dornish woman warrior surrender to the Queen's command.

That had been a few moments ago. Now, they were speaking of Harrion's departure with the King. Nysa was against it - strongly against it.

"I'm keeping a few guards back with you as extra security."

Nysa shook her head. "You mean you're keeping them back because you trust them."

"Smalljon will do his part, that much is certain. And I have faith that Lyra Mormont will defend you to the death. But those ones," he looked at Tyta and Nymeria behind them. Nysa sighed as Harrion pulled her some distance away from the group. One look back from Nysa told Tyta to pause. "Forgive me, Nysa. Yes, I do not trust them with your safety. And yes, I do not like the idea that the Kingslayer is alive because I do not trust his words. He may have taken care of you as a little girl, but he can't be trusted to take care of you now. I detest that you speak of him as though he's been protecting you your entire life. Your mercy is abundant that I'm afraid someone will take advantage of it."

"You are a dear friend, Harrion. And I appreciate your opinion on the matter, truly I do," she looked up at him. "But I feel as though we are so close to getting Sansa back, to going back home, to ending this war. I don't want to be remembered as the Queen who burned House Frey or the Queen who murdered little boys from House Lannister. I want to be remembered as the Queen who showed mercy and gave these Houses a second chance."

"Do they deserve it, Nysa?"

Nysa closed her eyes and looked down.

She felt his lips press to the hair on her head. "You will always be like a sister to me. Do not forget that I watched you grow, I watched you and my brother fall in love. I will protect you, even if that means protecting you from harmful decisions," he pulled back as she looked at him. "I will support you, no matter the throne you sit on. But I will not stand by and watch as House Lannister and House Frey betray you again."

* * *

Sansa watched as her husband read the parchments in front of him. She would sometimes go down to spend time with him in his study as he poured over the accounts and various work that he had to do. He was rather important - she noted. At least the job that he had was. It was something that Petyr Baelish had done before. Apparently, he had not done it too well. At least, that's what she thought.

Tyrion looked up and caught her gaze, causing Sansa to blush slightly at being discovered in her actions of staring at him. She immediately glanced back at her needle work only to notice that she was creating the sigil of House Lannister.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow evening, Sansa," he asked, causing her to raise her head.

Giving him a bewildered look, she shook her head slowly. "Did you need me for something, my Lord?"

Tyrion smiled at his wife's formality. He had informed her more than once that there was no need for her to call him such. Realizing why he had smiled, another blush tinted Sansa's cheeks.

"Did you need me for something, Tyrion," she restated, causing his smile to lessen.

It wasn't so much a grin anymore. But more so of a peaceful smile.

"I wanted to know if you would like to have a few young Ladies to sup - something of a celebration."

"What are we celebrating?"

Tyrion's smile disappeared completely before he leaned back in his chair and returned with a thoughtful look. "I assumed that it was your name-day."

Sansa's face must have lightened with recognition because he continued.

"Is it true or..."

"It is," Sansa nodded. "I just didn't think that anyone would," she paused and looked back down. "We do not need to do anything. I'm fairly content with..."

"Sansa," Tyrion demanded in a firm tone. She wasn't frightened by it or startled. However, she knew that he was about to insist in her rights. "You are my wife. You are a Lady from a great House, wed into another great House. You should have fine things."

Sansa gave him a small nod as he cleared his throat and pulled out another parchment. "What would these festivities include?"

"Whatever you wish," Tyrion answered as he started to write. "If you want me to offer suggestions, I thought you could invite Lady Margery and a few others to dine with you. My cousins are visiting the Capitol. They would like to meet you also."

"Oh," Sansa responded in surprise. She had been expecting Lady Margery, but she had not thought about receiving any Lannister guests. "Who are they?"

Tyrion paused before looking up to reply. "Lorena and Lya Lannister, daughters of Ser Loren Lannister - my," he cleared his throat and gestured for Podrick who was standing in the distance. "My mother's brother."

Sansa had not heard much about Tyrion's mother - only what Cersei and Joffrey had spoken of. She wanted to ask him questions, wondering if they were true. Was Joanna Lannister truly a beautiful and kind woman as they say? She once heard Cersei bitterly say that Tyrion had taken their mother away from them. She could not understand the meaning behind it.

"They are here for the royal wedding," Sansa asked, steering the question in another direction.

"They are here for safety."

Whatever response Sansa was expecting, it wasn't that.

"I do not know how updated you are on your brother's pursuits, but I am told that many of the Westerland Houses have surrendered to him. He has captured many of their castles and there are some - who have heard about the Twins - have bent the knee."

"Your father can't be pleased," Sansa commented.

Tyrion chuckled. "No, he most certainly is not, especially since a few Lannisters left the Westerlands and came here to the Capital."

"Such as your mother's brother," Sansa implied.

"Yes. Ser Loren's son was captured, two of his sons were captured. He fears for the rest of his children. So, he has brought his daughters here."

"I am sorry for his sons. Were they killed in battle?"

"Apparently, they are being held by your brother," Tyrion explained as Sansa looked down and nodded her head. "I am told - through rumor - that your brother's wife has been keeping them safe. She was even the young maiden who saved Ser Stafford's life - another brother of my mother's."

His wife gave him another nod. "Your father informed me of such - of Ser Stafford that is."

"Yes, I'm sure he has."

"He's also told me that my brother's wife has killed the Mountain," Sansa's eyes met his. Her voice took on a different tone. It was determined and sure - not the frightened and submissive gentleness she held before.

Tyrion picked up the cup that Pod set next to him and took a long sip before returning his glance back at his wife. "You can always speak your mind with me, Sansa. So, I will ask you for an honest answer. Do you believe that your brother has a chance at winning this war?"

"I do," she replied loud and clear. Her chin lifting and her back straightening. "If they are proclaiming that Princess Rhaenys Targaryen is alive and that she has been living this entire time in Winterfell - growing up among Lord Stark's children, that she is wed to my brother - the King of the North, the King of the Trident - then yes, I do believe that my brother has a chance at winning this war."

Tyrion watched as a smile graced her pretty face. She rarely got to speak about her family this openly - this freely. And he allowed her every moment of it.

"Do you believe that Nysa is Rhaenys?"

"Prince Oberyn is there isn't he," Sansa questioned. "Didn't Dorne proclaim her as Queen? We knew her mother was from the South, we just never ventured to guess which House it was. And something about what your said when we last spoke," she thought out loud. "He said that my parents had raised Nysa to be my equal. I always believed that my father was a kind man. That he felt indebted to Ser Martyn Cassel for some reason - that's why he took in Nysa. But he knew, my mother knew," she looked up at Tyrion.

"I remember your father and mother always calling her 'Lady', treating her like one."

"She used fire once, I remember," Sansa recalled.

Tyrion tilted his head. "Used fire?"

"To heal," Sansa answered, "to save a child's life, two children in fact - House Glover and House Karstark. Many of the Northerners speak of it."

"They place her in high-esteem." Tyrion looked down at the table before jumping off his seat and walking to stand in front of Sansa. "Sansa, I will not breathe a word of this to anyone. You know that I haven't, and I never will. But did you know who she was?"

Sansa shook her head.

"Did your brother know who she was?"

Again, she shook her head. "It is as I've told you before. Our parents never said anything. Everyone believed that she was the daughter of Ser Martyn Cassel and a young Lady from the South."

Tyrion nodded. "You will not speak of this to my cousins or Lady Margery, understand?" Sansa nodded. "And as for your hand-maiden, perhaps one of my cousins would like to serve you while she is here in the Capital until we can find you another."

"Whatever happened to Shae?"

A sad smile formed on his lips. "She had to leave, be with her family I assume. I paid her handsomely for her service to you."

"She was one of my only friends here."

"I know," he nodded. "Perhaps you will find a friend with my cousin. However, please be cautious when speaking to her about your family."

Sansa shook her head. "I do not speak of them at all to others, only you," she placed her hand on his, causing him to feel warmth and comfort. He smiled and without thinking, moved to press his lips to her forehead. He listened as she sucked in a breath, a soft gasp - before he stepped back. "I trust you, Tyrion."

"I don't know if I can be a very trusting husband, but I will be a friend, Sansa. If you ever wish to speak of anything, openly, you come to me understand?"

"I will."

Tyrion smiled before walking towards the other end of the room. "Before you leave for the night, there is something I must tell you about your other brother."

"I've heard of Jon's desertion from the Wall."

"Forgive me," he turned to face her. "I meant of Bran and Rickon, the younger ones."

Sansa looked interested in what he had to say.

"Word is that they are alive," he said which got a surprised gasp from Sansa's lips. She moved her hand to cover her mouth. The feelings so uncertain, so ecstatic, so unbelievable, so indescribable that she felt tears touch her fingers. Tyrion offered her a smile as he let the news settle in.

He remembered that she had wept for them. She had prayed in the godswood for hours on end until Joffrey had sent guards to watch over her - as though she were conspiring in a holy sanctuary. Her face was blank and impassive at dinner, yes, she learned how to clothe her true emotions away from the court. She curtsied and presented herself prettily as though nothing were wrong. But he knew, Tyrion knew.

"It cannot be," she whispered.

"You know that Lord Bolton..."

"He had betrayed my brother," she nodded, remembering what Tyrion had told her.

"He was the one who informed my father that your younger brothers were alive, and that Jon Snow had reclaimed Winterfell for House Stark."

She released a sob, a joyful sob before standing up, rushing towards him. Tyrion's eyes widened as she embraced him, leaning her head against his shoulder as she knelt. He wrapped his arms around her frame as she cried blissfully. She thanked Tyrion repeatedly as she clung to him. Her heart feeling lighter than it had in moons, in years. Her family was alive.

The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.

Her pack - her family.

They were safe, they were alive!

No matter what was done to them, what they had to endure, Sansa thought, they were going to survive.

Pod returned to the room when he heard the commotion, but Tyrion waved him away.

* * *

Robb pressed a kiss to Nysa's forehead before lifting her head to press a gentle kiss on her lips.

"May the Gods keep you safe, my wife," he whispered before kneeling in front of her. He gently rubbed her stomach, feeling the babe move inside. Robb pressed his lips to her belly, then rest his forehead against it. "May the Gods bring you safely into this world, my little one." He lifted his head to look at Nysa. "I'll see you both when I come back."

"Please come back," she replied softly, reaching out to caress his cheek.

Robb turned his head into her palm, closing his eyes to the gentle touch. He knew if he didn't leave now, that he wouldn't leave at all. Quickly, he stood and turned away from Nysa walking towards the Greatjon who had his horse ready for him. He looked around the courtyard, as a few others were saying their farewells. His mother had come out then, stood next to Nysa.

She was Rhaenys Targaryen - but to him she would always be his Nysa.

Prince Oberyn bowed his head to Robb. He was leaving Prince Oberyn to command the Dornish army at the Twins. Edmure had left the day before along with several Lords of the Riverlands to return to their castles and set up a defense, should Lord Tywin send an attack from King's Landing through the Riverlands. However, should forces get through, Prince Oberyn was there to guard his niece. Smalljon was ready to get Nysa out should it come to that. They had escaped many things, but he didn't want to leave anything to chance.

* * *

Jory held his arms around Marissa as she wept softly. They had made love long into the night and early this morning when they rose. And when he left their bed to dress, her tears had come out in earnest.

"The King is leaving," Jory reminded her.

She shook her head and looked up at him. "My eldest sister, Amerie - her husband left for war and he never returned."

"That will not happen to me, I assure you."

"How can you tell," she asked as he wiped the tears from her cheek.

"Because I have a wife that I want to come back to," he smiled as she shook her head and gripped his tunic.

It would be just like him to jest at a moment like this. He had welcomed her mother with open arms to live with them at Greenhall in the North. However, when it was suggested that her eldest sister come as well, he had put his foot down and said 'no'.

It was no secret that she had shared her bed with a couple of their cousins - Black Walder included. And since he had been one of the conspirators to the Red Wedding, it was something that Jory couldn't quite forgive just yet. Marissa understood that. And she had heard whispers that her sister was desirous to become her husband's mistress. So eventually she did agree with Jory. Amerie could not come to the North. However, the feeling of doubt did grow in her. Jory was in his right if he took a mistress. As if knowing her feelings, he had objected to the idea and began to remind her that if he was returning to his castle and to his bed it would only be to return to her.

And at this moment, he had said the same.

"My sweet Marissa," he pressed another kiss to her brow before leaning in to press his lips to hers.

She welcomed him eagerly before he pulled away, marching towards his horse and mounting it. Her mother came to stand by her side as she turned to her and began to cry. She liked Jory, she liked Jory a lot. She wanted to go to the North, she was desperate to start her life, build her home. What was she going to do, if he never came back?

* * *

Jon Umber was a typical Northerner, Lyra Mormont thought as she rolled her eyes as he sang - the wine sloshing from his cup.

"I am supposed to retrieve you," Lyra stood in front of him as he requested that another Frey maiden pour him more ale. "Jon," she sternly said his name.

"Relax," he stood up and handed her his cup. "I'm not intoxicated," he belched loudly before turning around, lifting his hands as they cheered and continued to sing.

Lyra licked her lips and went to turn around. But Jon took a hold of her.

"Dance with me," he requested as he pulled Lyra's body against his.

He looked down at her in a way that made her feel awkward inside. She felt his body under his clothing - hard and warm. What was happening to her? Whatever it was, Jon noticed as he wrapped his other arm around her and began to sway them to the soft music being played in the hall. Her cheeks had never felt so warm before as his eyes twinkled.

When his hands slipped further lower around her bottom, she remembered why she had come here to retrieve him.

"We're supposed to be watching the Queen," she pushed away his hands and walked away from him and the other men as whistles and jeers followed her out of the hall. "Men," she muttered as she slammed the door. One of the serving maids was about to go in with another pitcher. "They do not need any more wine," Lyra told her. "Start serving them water. We're supposed to be on guard."

"Yes, my Lady," the maiden bowed her head as she turned and motioned for two others to follow her.

Lyra kept her hand on her sword as she walked towards Nysa's chambers. Rhaenys - she corrected in her head. Her best friend was Rhaenys Targaryen - a lost Princess. And if Lady Stark was correct, Jon Snow was also a Targaryen. She wondered at how Lord Stark felt hiding two children who belonged to House Targaryen. True, one of them was kin. But Nysa was not, prompting her to ponder about all the reasons Lord Stark would carry out such an action - against his best friend, Robert Baratheon.

She arrived at the door and noticed that Corgan and Roland Blackwood were about ready to fall off to sleep. "Oi," she called out as they jerked to a stand.

Corgan - the older one - addressed her first. "My Lady," he went to bow but shook his head. It was obvious that he needed to sleep.

"Go," Lyra gestured for them to leave. "Both of you. I'll guard the Queen's doors."

"The King wanted at least two people posted..."

"Two people who are alert and ready," Lyra finished. "The two of you look exhausted. All is quiet. Lady Tyta just returned from a perimeter check. Lady Nym has guards at the wall. They've both retired for the evening. I suggest you do the same. Tomorrow is another day."

They both still looked as though they didn't want to listen to her. In fact, they hardly listened to Tyta, either. And supposedly Tyta was kin. Then again, if Tyta's kin from House Frey were ready to kill her, she was quite certain that her kin from House Blackwood wouldn't _listen_ to her. She wondered why Nysa had agreed to take on more guards. It complicated matters.

However, she knew that the King had requested that she have at least five more personal guards. Lord Blackwood volunteered his nephews - Corgan and Roland - for the task. Jory had assigned Wyl and Cayn. Nysa trusted them. They were also guards that had seen her grow at Winterfell. She knew they would protect her. And then Harrion Karstark had assigned Waylyn - a House Karstark guard - to protect Nysa also.

"But..."

"You heard the Lady," Jon barked from behind her.

That's right, Lyra thought. She forgot that the King assigned Jon Umber to serve as the Queen's personal guard instead of his own.

She saw Corgan and Roland Blackwood leave quickly as Jon moved to take his post at one side of the door. "Forgive me, for earlier," he mumbled, without looking at her.

Lyra shook her head and looked away. "You are forgiven. You were deep in your cup. In fact," she went to stand in front of him. "I think that you should go sleep, too."

"I'm an Umber," he finally met her gaze. He said that as though that was the answer to all the problems in Westeros. She shook her head again, opening her mouth to rebuke him. "Lady Lyra, there are a many thing that I am still capable of doing, whether I have had one cup of ale or a dozen. Believe me, I am able to guard the Queen."

She sighed and nodded, turning to walk towards her post.

"I heard that your cousin is serving the other dragon in Essos," Jon stated. Lyra stopped in her tracks. "It's probably not wise for me to speak ill of those who are dishonorable," he said as Lyra flinched, her hand tightening on her sword. "Those who are dishonest," Jon added, "those who betray their Lord, their land and run away like cowards with their tail between..."

Lyra pulled out her sword and swung it at Jon. Jon lifted his sword up and stopped hers. They both stood there, pushing their swords against one another, their eyes studying one another intensely.

"Choose your next words wisely, Umber," Lyra snarled.

"With Houses switching loyalties, I need to be sure of the people I fight with," Jon pushed the sword in the other direction, causing Lyra to take a step back. "A Mormont has betrayed the North before. I want to make certain that it won't happen again."

"Nysa and I are friends!"

"And the news about her being a dragon, that doesn't concern you in the least," Jon tilted his head towards Nysa's door.

"We all knew that she was different. We all knew that she was from the South."

"But we didn't know that she came from House Targaryen - the very House that kidnapped a young lady from the South and murdered Northern Lords."

Lyra's eyes narrowed at Jon. "Lyanna Stark wasn't kidnapped."

"But Rickard Stark and Brandon Stark were killed by the Mad King," Jon reminded her. "I don't hold those crimes against Nysa because she was a child. I'm come to know enough of her that she would have spared them," his voice grew soft as he sheathed his sword. He placed his hand on the door. "She was raised in the North, will always be known as Lady Nysa Snow to me, now Queen Nysa Stark. My loyalties lie with my King and his Queen - regardless of the House she came from."

Lyra sensed sincerity and honesty in his voice. "I guess with Bolton's betrayal, it's hard to tell who is truly on the King and Queen's side," she stated, putting her sword away as she looked him straight on.

"Are you not the least bit concerned about her being a dragon?"

Jon tilted his head, studying her.

"It was shocking," Lyra replied honestly. "Lord Stark took her in, raised her as a bastard to hide who she truly was. To me she was always my friend - she spent some time on Bear Island."

"She spent some time with several Northern Houses," Jon pointed out. "I think it was to ensure that she would be well-respected for who she was, not what House she came from."

"I feel like we were tricked - all of us," she admitted. "Lord Stark never spoke of it to anyone. And according to the King - his mother and his father had agreed to never speak of it to one another again. Jory Cassel just discovered who she truly was a moon or two ago," she shook her head. "Why all the deception?"

"To keep an innocent child safe," he answered.

"But it was all a lie," Lyra insisted. "Nysa told me that she was mistreated when she came South. The only reason why we respected her, and Jon was because Lord Stark had said that they were to be. You and I both know that bastards aren't given a place of honor."

"And yet that's exactly what Lord Stark did," he added with a knowing smile. "He made sure that both Rhaenys and Rhaegon were treated like royalty. He showed them mercy, and I believe that's why our Queen will do the same. We have nothing to fear just because she came from House Targaryen. As difficult as it is for all of us to grasp, she loves the North - Lord Stark made sure of that. The North loves her, too. And Jon has been given a title above anyone else in the North. He is our Prince."

"They both don't look like they belong to House Targaryen," Lyra smiled, remembering Nysa's statement about wanting silver hair.

"No, they don't," he agreed. "If not for Nysa's gift, I doubt any of us would have believed Lady Stark," he paused and looked out into the distance, "or Prince Oberyn for that matter."

"What is your take on him?"

Jon smiled at her question. "I don't like his daughters, that much is certain," he nodded as Lyra smiled politely. Lady Nym intimidated her and Tyta. Whenever she asked something, both Lyra and Tyta would begin to doubt whatever it was they had done. And Obarra, Lyra thought as she steeled herself. That one always looked ready to hack someone's head off. "He's also very ambitious," Jon said as they both turned to look at one another.

"He wants his niece on the throne," Lyra didn't dismiss his point. Prince Oberyn had stated very plainly to everyone that Nysa - Rhaenys - should take her rightful place on the Iron Throne.

"Nysa doesn't want it," Jon responded before sighing, "something else that I find endearing about our Queen. She only wants to protect the North, protect her home, protect those under her care."

"So, you do not mind it in the least that she came from House Targaryen?"

Jon cleared his throat and went to stand. "I am upset that Lord Stark covered up his sister's indiscretions with Prince Rhaegar. He lied to the North, to everyone that knew him in Westeros. They all believed that Prince Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna Stark. And now, to hear that she ran away with him - because she found herself pregnant with Jon? She was betrothed to another man." He shook his head. "Good men died that day. There are men from the Riverlands who lost their lives, too."

Lyra knew this and wondered if everyone had thoughts like her and Jon. Not everyone had been accepting of it.

"And placing Nysa in the North - influencing the other Houses to trust her, honor her? That was a bold move," Jon confessed. "It could have gone either way, to be honest. But the North does trust Nysa, they trust Jon. Look at what he's done," Jon smiled and shook his head. "He helped rid the North of the Ironborn, he reclaimed Winterfell, he saved House Karstark and House Glover and so much more."

"You..."

Jon looked at her. "I will follow my King and my Queen. The North's freedom lies with them."

Lyra nodded.

"And what about you, Lady Lyra," his eyes narrowed. "Does the idea of serving a dragon make you question your loyalty?"

"My loyalty is to the North, to House Stark, to my King and Queen. You need not worry about me," Lyra lifted her chin and turned to march to her post at the end of the hall.

"Another reason why I asked is because I heard my father and your mother arranging a marriage between our Houses."

Lyra stopped again.

"Your sister is the heiress to Bear Island. And Alysanne is currently wed to a bear - whatever it is that you Mormonts believe." "

A part of her angrily ticked inside. She despised it when others - men especially - would question their birth. She was certain that Dacey was unaccepting of the stories, Dacey looked like she may give Ser Perwyn a chance - if he fought hard enough for her. A man needed to be strong for them. It was the reason why Alysanne had kept to the myth, had truly believed that her children were born from a bear. No man could tempt Alysanne.

"So, the next to wed would be you," Jon suggested.

Was this the reason for his flirting? Was this the reason why he had gotten familiar with her? And the questioning of her loyalty, she bit her lip to stop herself from cursing. Oh yes, because Smalljon Umber would want a wife who followed his lead. Well, that wife would not be her.

"You're a fine man, Jon Umber," Lyra took a deep breath. "But I have no desire to wed you."

"It's a shame," he chuckled as she glanced at him over her shoulder. "I think you and I would have had some good times." She bristled and walked away. "For what it's worth, I've heard that you and my brother exchanged vows under the heart tree."

"We had barely seen our eighth name-day," Lyra stopped again, stomping her foot down.

She, Nysa, Osric, Robb and Jon Snow - Rhaegon now - were chasing one another in the godswood at Last Hearth. Robb had presided over the wedding - since he was the heir to House Stark. They had exchanged vows and shared a kiss - a rather disturbing kiss. But that shouldn't have counted. The way Jon was looking at her would suggest otherwise.

"I am not wed to Osric!"

Jon chuckled and sent a cheeky wink her way. "We'll see when we return North."

"I will not wed an Umber," Lyra stated confidently, but Jon looked away from her. "I'm being serious!"

"What is going on out here," Nysa pulled open her door as Jon continued to laugh.

"Forgive us, Nysa," Lyra replied. "We were simply discussing matters."

"Marriage matters to be exact, my Queen," Jon smiled and looked back at Nysa before bowing to her.

"I do love match-making between Houses," Nysa smiled as Lyra rolled her eyes. "After assisting House Bracken and House Blackwood, and now arranging the marriages for House Frey, House Tully, House Mallister and House Westerling, I think that I should turn my attention to the Houses in the North."

"Please do," Jon nodded, conspiringly glancing towards Lyra. "What are your thoughts on my brother and Lyra?"

Nysa's eyes widened. "Lyra," she placed a hand over her heart. "I had no idea that you desired to be wed. Oh dear, what sort of friend am I that I did not assist you further in this venture?"

"A good friend," Lyra snarled at Jon.

"You should speak to my father and Lady Mormont when we go back North," Jon suggested to the Queen.

Nysa smiled brightly at the task. Lyra couldn't believe what was happening. "Good idea, Smalljon," Nysa patted his hand. "That is exactly what I should do. In fact, if I remember correctly, didn't you and Osric," she turned to Lyra.

"No, we did not. We are not. And we never will be," Lyra said as this time she did march down the hall and towards her post, leaving behind a bewildered Nysa and a laughing Jon.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Nysa woke up feeling a sharp pain, her hand immediately flew to her stomach as she rolled to her side. "Is it time, little one," she whispered before groaning into the pillow. She felt like she couldn't move that way and tried to get to the other side. Another sharp pain caused her to gasp. "Robb," she called for him before remembering that he wasn't there. He had left days ago. Her hands gripped onto the furs and sheets around her trying to pull her body to the side.

She couldn't move any further without causing her pain. And she didn't want to upset the baby. If it was time for him to come, then it was time for him to come.

Looking up at the ceiling, she began to cry as she felt the pain pierce and tickle her body. The sensation wasn't welcomed, and her body was starting to heat up at an alarming rate. Nysa shook her head - as if that would stop the heat. She didn't want to burn her baby. Her hand flew to her stomach. Seven hells, what if she burnt her baby? "Robb!" She screamed for him.

"My Queen?" Lyra and Corgan entered her room, swords drawn until they noticed she was in distress.

Lyra was at her side at once, touching her stomach. "It's time," she stated more than questioned and looked up at her friend.

Nysa felt the pain again and closed her eyes as her body reacted by tightening. She tried to breathe out, but nothing flowed. Once the pain subsided, she collapsed back on the bed and looked towards Lyra. It certainly was time. She was frightened about everything - losing the baby, burning the baby, burning somebody in the room. All these thoughts entered her mind. She reached out for Lyra, but the young woman stepped back and glanced towards the sheets.

"I need to get the Maester and Lady Stark," Lyra said before hurrying out of the room.

"Lyra," Nysa whispered but she was already gone.

Nysa released a long and loud scream as Corgan's voice was heard by her bedside. "Breathe, my Queen," he assured her. "Breathe."

She remembered being afraid when she had learned she was with child. And the conversation came to the front of her mind.

 _"Is everything alright, sister?" Jory came to sit down at her side as she stared out the window over the river. "This should be a time of rejoicing and yet, you appear to be saddened."_

 _"I'm just thinking, that's all."_

 _"Of the King," Jory asked as he sighed. "He'll be happy with this news, I assure you. As for the two of you, you often argued in Winterfell as children," he chuckled. "All was forgiven in time."_

 _She shook her head and turned towards her brother. "This argument is different. So much has changed between us. I," Nysa paused and Jory reached out to take her hand in his, like he often did when she was a child. "I still love Torrhen. I think of him often. And now I'm a Queen - a Queen, brother," she looked at him with confusion and fright, but he gave her an understanding nod. "I never thought that I would someday become a Queen, a Lady - maybe, but not a Queen. And I'm with child! And that child's father, he hates me, Jory! I know he does."_

 _"He doesn't..."_

 _"And I'm going to die!"_

 _She was hardly making sense, she knew it. But there was no one she could be completely honest with at the moment. Harrion wasn't speaking with her. Lord Karstark often looked at her with disdain. He had never done that before. Perhaps he had been wary of her presence in Karhold because she was a bastard and Torrhen was close to her. But this, this was different. And her relationship with House Frey was strained. Most of them stayed because of Ser Stevron. She knew that a lot of her support came from him. And Lady Catelyn, gods, she wished things were better with her._

 _"What do you mean, you're going to die," Jory questioned her._

 _"My mother died giving birth to me. Then there is our Uncle. He only has Beth. And our brothers are no longer alive," she replied looking up at him, tears staining her face as Jory reached out to touch her cheek. "Both sides of my kin - mother and father," she began, "there isn't a good chance of the babe surviving, neither would I survive."_

 _Jory sighed, and it was obvious now that he could determine what it was that she was stressed about. He had told her that his mother and brothers had died. And of course, no doubt the thought of their Uncle, Ser Rodrik's children and wives were at the forefront of her mind. Little did she know that she had not a drop of Cassel blood in her. She didn't need to worry on that matter, but he would allow Lady Catelyn to inform her of that._

 _"Sister," Jory touched her shoulder. "Listen to me," he urged kindly. "Nothing will happen to you."_

 _"You don't know that Jory," she wept, feeling at a loss. She didn't want the babe to die. It would look horrible on her part and her relationship with her husband was tense as it was. If she couldn't produce an heir, she knew that he would take another. She wouldn't be surprised if he had already. "I don't want to lose my baby!"_

 _"You're not going to." Jory wiped her face and leaned in to press a kiss upon her brow. "You're strong and brave, Nysa. The Gods will protect you. I'll pray in the godswood and even in the Sept," he said causing her to smile and shake her head._

 _She knew that he was always torn about following the Seven. Their father and their Uncle had changed their faith - become knights, the few in the North. But Nysa knew that Jory's mother kept the old ways. The fact that he was willing to pray in the Sept for her, meant a lot._

 _Jory leaned back and gave her a small smile. "All will be alright, little sister," he said as though it were true._

However, now there were no words to comfort her. There was no Jory, no Robb, not even Jon was here. She knew if at least one of them were present, she'd feel just a tad bit better. But the fear was there - fear for her life, fear for her baby's life.

Feeling Corgan's presence nearby, she grabbed his hand as he shook with fear equal as hers. She could feel it, sense it. They were both scared. "Don't leave me alone," she cried, feeling her face become warm with tears as her body tightened once more.

"I will stay until the Maester tells me to leave, my Queen," he replied - though, he looked ready to run from the room.

Gods, how she wished Jory was here. Seven hells, she wanted Robb to be here more than anyone else.

* * *

Ramsay slammed the letter down on the table, causing a few of his father's guards to jump. "And what of Winterfell," he questioned looking at the four men standing before him. "Surely, we should be able to..."

"You still want to take it," one of them questioned in shock. "Jon Snow has been rallying the Northerners to his side. They'll fight with him, for him," the guard emphasized. "And the King," he shook his head, "the King of the North is still alive."

"They say his Queen burned House Frey, burned the men that were with your father," another guard decided to be brave and stepped forward. "There's no telling what..."

Ramsay stood up so quickly that none of them were able to discern what he had done. He had taken a dagger out and stabbed the nearest guard to him. With wild and crazy eyes, he withdrew the dagger before plunging it back into the man's midsection several times. When he considered himself to be finished, he stumbled back as the guard fell. Gesturing for one of the maidens from Winterfell to step closer, he took the dagger and wiped it on her dress.

Her eyes brimmed with sadness and disgust. The second Ramsay looked up at her face, she blinked away the expression before he could discipline her further for it. "What is your name again," he asked her.

"Palla," she replied.

He leaned in closer, a twisted smile on his face as she turned away from him.

"My Lord," she whispered as he nodded in satisfaction.

Ramsay enjoyed lording his position over others. He was the Lord of the Dreadfort in his father's place. "Clean up this mess," he ordered her.

Her eyes moved to glance at Theon - beaten, limping and cradling his hand close to his body. She narrowed her eyes at him before looking back down at the body of the fallen Bolton guard. This was all Theon's fault. He had let the door open to the Ironborn to come in and take her home, have their way with her and then he'd allow House Bolton to take them.

"Answer me something, Palla," Ramsay said as he sat back in his seat. Palla knelt to start moving the body. She knew that no one was going to help her - not unless they wanted something from her or if Ramsay was no longer present. "Do you wish you were in Winterfell?"

She wasn't going to answer so she simply just shook her head. It must have satisfied Ramsay because he turned away from her and back to the guards who still stood in attention. Everyone feared him. He picked up the knife that he had used to kill his guard and twirled it around, playfully and maliciously.

"Well, I wish I were in Winterfell. And once they see what I'm capable of, they'll give it to me." One of the guards went to step forward but took three steps back as Ramsay's chair was pushed back. Palla turned to see that he had stood up. "The King of the North is not here. His Queen is not here. And Jon Snow," he chuckled deeply and darkly, that it made Palla's skin crawl. "Jon Snow won't know what hit him. We've taken Winterfell before," Ramsay glanced at Theon who turned his head away. "We'll do it again."

* * *

Robb stayed mounted upon his horse as the men entered Casterly Rock. They were going to give a signal that everything was in the clear and then Robb's group would march on through the side gate. He noticed Grey Wind in the front of him, prowling back and forth - he was ready and waiting for the signal, too. It seemed like more than just the men were itching for a good fight.

He on the other hand, was praying that he was back at the Twins - not because he was unsure of the battle. Mostly it was because his wife, his Queen, his Nysa was there. The first time he separated from her, he nearly lost her. The second time, they were not on speaking terms. The third time, he was frightened for her life - knew that she had put herself in danger. This time - he snorted as he tried to keep his nerves down - she was having his child. The heir of the North was being born and he wasn't there for it. Like father, like son - he thought.

He'd take them back home, all of them. Jon had secured the North for him - something he knew he could never repay. Jon still had not written back regarding the legitimization. Both Nysa and his mother were speaking about proclaiming Jon as a Targaryen. He wasn't so sure if Jon would agree to that. Nysa would press the issue, he was certain. But Jon could be just as headstrong as her. Regardless, there was truly no way of thanking Jon for doing what he did - doing what House Bolton had failed to do and ultimately had betrayed him for. Jon was loyal. And loyalty should be rewarded.

"It's quiet," Harrion stood beside him.

"House Frey will pull through," Robb assured Harrion. "I know that you still don't trust them," he looked at the new Lord of Karhold before glancing towards a few men behind them. There was Ser Perwyn and a few others belonging to House Frey.

While majority of the men from the Riverlands had returned to their castles or gone to Riverrun to fortify any attack from the South, House Blackwood had kept their men at the Twins - Lord Tytos had grown rather fond of the Queen and did all that he could to ensure her safety. Robb knew it was because she had somehow brought peace between House Blackwood and House Bracken. But rumor had it that there was a daughter of House Blackwood who had wed a Targaryen Prince not too long ago. Lord Tytos may have felt as though Nysa were his kin.

Men from House Mallister fighting with Ser Patrek inside Casterly Rock. There were also men from Dorne - House Allyrion, House Qorgyle and House Gargalen - who were fighting alongside Robb and the men in Casterly Rock. The rest of the men brought from Dorne were assigned to protect the Twins and the Queen inside it. Another situation that Robb knew unsettled the Northerners.

"It's hard for me to trust anyone South of the Neck," Harrion stated before smiling, "especially anyone beyond King's Landing," causing Robb to laugh.

"I take it you've voiced your concerns to the Queen," he chuckled as Harrion nodded.

"She's very forgiving, very merciful. I warned her that it could be her downfall," Harrion said as Robb nodded thoughtfully. "She wants to make peace with Houses that not only sought out to destroy House Stark but to also destroy House Targaryen."

"And you," Robb looked at him.

"I'd rather kill them all," Harrion confessed, "starting with the one she calls 'Amie'."

Robb thought on that as well. He remembered his mother had stated that she believed the only way to get the girls back was through the Kingslayer. She had Tyrion Lannister in her grasp and after he was gone, she received her husband's bones. They had returned him to Winterfell and Jon should have been receiving him soon. The more he spoke to Nysa about his mother's actions, the more he could see that she believed returning the Kingslayer, would bring Sansa and Arya back to her as well.

However, that did not go as planned. And should Robb capture Casterly Rock and have the Lannisters return Sansa to him, then there was really no need to keep the Kingslayer alive after that. He looked at Harrion - House Karstark had suffered many losses as is. He would grant Harrion the privilege of ending the Kingslayer's life.

 _"Do what you feel is best. As for the Kingslayer," Nysa looked at him. "I'm too emotional now to decide," she shook her head, turning to face Robb. And he could see it in her eyes - the conflict brewing inside. "He's killed many, I understand. But these memories aren't helping me decide his punishment."_

 _"Would you be upset with me if I decide to execute him," Robb questioned._

 _Nysa shook her head before glancing once more at the Kingslayer. "A Lannister isn't the only one who pays his debt," she said loudly as she watched the Kingslayer's face fall slightly._

"My King," Ser Perwyn called out, pulling him from his thoughts.

The men beside him looked up and saw it - the signal that the outer courtyards had been emptied. Robb withdrew his sword and glanced towards his men, all of them willing and battle-hungry. Grey Wind snarled, barring his teeth in anticipation.

"For the North! For the Riverlands," he shouted as the men around him began to cheer.

His horse led the charge, Grey Wind sprinting towards the gate of Casterly Rock. For my father, Robb thought in his mind just as they entered the gates.

* * *

"Where is the Maester," Catelyn shouted, looking at Marissa Cassel who had come back without anyone by her side.

"He cannot be found, my Lady," Marissa replied coming to Nysa's side.

Nysa looked up at her mother-by-law, tears streaming down her face and it broke Catelyn's heart. Before anyone could say anything, Nysa inhaled a sharp breath before sitting up and screaming. The babe would make its appearance soon. There was no doubt about that. Nysa collapsed back on the bed, panting. When Lyra Mormont had brought Catelyn back to Nysa's room, Catelyn had ordered Corgan Blackwood out and placed him along with Smalljon Umber at the door as guards.

Lyra Mormont and Marissa were sent to find the Maester.

"What are we to do," Marissa asked Catelyn as she thought about it.

Before she could reply, the doors opened. Smalljon stepped back out and allowed Maege Mormont to enter. He looked at Nysa with concern before glancing towards Catelyn. She gave him a nod, attempting to convey her thanks and her faith that everything would be alright.

"Listen to me, my Queen," Maege went to the other side of Nysa as Marissa made way for her. "Lady Catelyn and I are going to help you deliver your child."

"The Maester," Nysa breathed out, clutching onto Catelyn's hand.

"Marissa," Catelyn called out to the young woman who came to her side quickly with a wet cloth and a bowl of clean water.

Marissa pressed the cloth to Nysa's forehead in an attempt to keep her cool. She was already heating up and that wasn't good. Catelyn prayed that no flame would appear from her daughter-by-law. Lady Tyta entered then with another maiden from House Blackwood - Corgan and Roland's sister, Sheira. Sheira rushed over with more cloths. Maege touched the young Queen's stomach before her hand traveled lower.

Nysa hissed as Maege examined her before nodding towards Sheira. "My Queen..."

"Where is the Maester," Nysa cried out desperately.

"You do not need him," Maege assured her.

Nysa turned towards Catelyn, her face scared and confused. "I don't want to die, mother," she pleaded. Catelyn smoothed her hand over Nysa's forehead and leaned down to press a kiss into her hair. "Please, don't let me die!"

"Everything will be alright," she assured her.

"The babe?"

"I have brought five fighting bear cubs into this world," Maege told her as Nysa continued to breathe heavily. "Lady Catelyn has borne five healthy wolf pups. Have faith in us, northern dragon," she said as Marissa and Sheira undressed Nysa further, wiping her down and preparing everything for the babe's arrival.

Catelyn offered up a prayer to the Mother and to the Maiden as Nysa released another scream, her eyes shut tight as her hold on Catelyn and Maege tightened.

"The time has come, my daughter," Catelyn leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

* * *

Robb rode through the castle, a smile etched upon his face. He had claimed Casterly Rock. That battle had barely lasted a night. By morning he knew that Stark banners would be hanging on the gates. A few soldiers lay dead - a small price to pay. But as he glanced around, he noticed that majority of his army were still unscathed. The men were rejoicing, and they had every right to. No one had ever taken Casterly Rock in such a short amount of time.

The fire that was burning on the walls and through the courtyard, Robb motioned for Jory to extinguish them. He didn't want to burn the castle down. It was certainly a magnificent sight to behold.

A scream to his side caught his attention and he dismounted his horse, patting his neck before one of the guards came to take him for some water. A few of the Frey guards were tossing a young maiden between themselves. He had turned a blind eye to it before. Women were often taken as the spoils of war. But he had been around Nysa enough to know that she would have burned the Frey men alive if she had seen such a thing.

"Stop," Robb demanded as the maiden was dropped to the ground. Jory and a few others came to his side and he gestured for them to go and search some of the hidden rooms. More women and children were found. One look at a woman carrying a crying babe made him think of Nysa and his child - his heart softening for them. Is this how Nysa felt? "No one is to harm the women and children."

One of the Frey men sneered. "My King..."

"I gave you a command, Ser," he looked the knight in the eye before he and his three men left. Robb held out a hand for one of the young girls to step forward. "It's okay. No one is going to hurt you."

The little girl looked back at the older ones before taking his hand.

"What is your name," he asked.

"Lottie, my Lord," she said in a quiet tone as one of the women mumbled something in the back. The little girl looked up frighteningly at him. "Forgive me," she shook her head and pulled her hand back, "my King."

Whoever had spoken up must have pointed out who he was. He glanced around at the women and children, all of them wary and frightened. He wondered briefly if that was how his sisters felt, how Nysa felt. Nysa had communicated with him that Sansa had seen the beheading, Cayn had hidden Arya away so that she wouldn't see. He wasn't there, and the grief had been overwhelming, consuming. He would not subject the children of Casterly Rock to such a thing.

"This is Lord Jory Cassel," Robb gestured to Jory as he stepped forward and nodded to the young girl. "He is the Queen's sister."

"The Queen is a dragon, is she not," someone questioned from the group.

"We've heard the rumors, your Grace, of the Wolf Queen who breathes fire," another stated as Robb cleared his throat. He knew that rumors would spread, but that was a new title.

"They say that she burnt children," Lottie spoke up.

"She would never do such a thing," Robb knelt again. He gave her a kind smile - at least he prayed that it was kind. "My wife cares for young children."

"Even those from Casterly Rock?"

Robb nodded and called Jory forth again. Jory gave him a small leather pouch. Nysa had stated that if he had come across the owner of the pouch, he was to spare that man's life. He had hoped with everything in him that none of his men had grown over zealous. The girl's eyes widened and the group behind her began to whisper among themselves. It had a House Lannister sigil on it, so there was no doubt that it would garner some attention.

"My wife saved the man who owned this," Robb explained as he shook the bag - the coins still inside.

"You're a liar," one of the women stepped forth and snatched the bag. Robb stood up as one of the older women touched her arm and tried to usher her back.

She dropped the pouch and tried to hide again but Robb wasn't having any of that. "And why is that?"

The younger women held some sort of authority among the others - that much was obvious. But he couldn't discern what it was. They obviously didn't want her to get in trouble.

"Forgive her, your Grace, she's just shocked because of the attack," the older woman stated, pulling her back.

"She did not mean to call your Queen a liar," another responded.

Robb sighed and went to grab the pouch. It was obvious that they still wouldn't trust him. "I've commanded my men that they shouldn't touch any of you. You're free to roam around the castle, just don't stir up too much trouble," he commanded before handing the pouch to Lottie. "My wife saved a Lannister, in return that Lannister paid her. She just wanted to let those at Casterly Rock know that she hasn't forgotten the debts that were paid to her and," he looked at the women who had expressed her frustration earlier, "and the ones that she owes."

Robb turned and left Jory in charge of the women and children. He knew he could trust Jory to handle matters.

* * *

Nysa's head whipped back and forth as the two women at her side soothed and encouraged her. She tried her best to draw strength from them both - especially Lady Catelyn. But her mind kept wandering.

She had been in the room with Lady Catelyn when Arya and Rickon were born. She had been in the room with Lady Karstark, Lady Glover and Lady Umber. This wasn't anything new to her. However, she had seen the stress that a woman would undergo, the stress that Lady Karstark and Lady Glover had experienced. Alys and Gawen had almost died because of it.

"The babe," Nysa cried looking back up at Lady Catelyn.

"Hush," she soothed her. "All will be alright," she stated calmly.

Nysa would have believed her; however, she didn't miss the look of panic Lady Catelyn sent towards Lady Maege.

* * *

Robb stood at the head of the hall as several Lannister knights were brought to him. All of them bound, looking defeated and embarrassed. A few of the northerners jeered and shouted insults as they came to stand in front of him. He held up his hand to silence them and noticed that Ser Perwyn and a few others had their hands tight on the hilt of their swords. They were waiting an execution call.

"Do you bend the knee," Robb questioned.

Grudgingly most of them knelt before him. One man stood and continued to remain standing. Robb studied him, noting that he could have passed for the Kingslayer - all blond hair and arrogant smiles. He lifted his chin in the air. "My name is Ser Daron Lannister. I am the son of Jason Lannister, brother to Ser Stafford Lannister. And I will never bend the knee to the men who raped and murdered both my wife and daughter."

A few of the men continued to shout insults at him. But Robb could see the conviction in his eyes, the bold declaration of loyalty to his House and to his kin. This man wasn't going to submit to the North because the North had done something wrong, something unjust. It wasn't the way his father had taught him. However, he remembered something that his father had said.

 _"The North is untamed and wild like the wind," his father touched his shoulder. "It moves here and there," he watched as his father's outstretched arm moved back and forth. "You can never catch it, never hold it."_

 _"But you rule over the North," Robb shook his head, still not able to grasp what his father was telling him._

 _Lord Eddard Stark chuckled and patted Robb's shoulder again. "My son, I am their liege Lord - this much is true. But in time you will know that no one_ rules _over the North. The North rules itself."_

"Do you know the man," Robb questioned as a few heads turned his way.

He caught the shocked expressions on a few of them, all confused and angered at his question. He knew that they did not care if a few Lannisters were dead. Hearing this knight's story, this knight's sense of justice made him think of his father, his mother, his own wife and his own child. Lord Eddard Stark would do anything for his children - even go against Joffrey and all of Westeros to be just. He had kept Nysa - a Targaryen Princess - safe when he knew that his best friend wanted her and all of House Targaryen dead. Lady Catelyn Stark had fought a man with a dagger to keep Bran safe, she stayed by his side, prayed to the gods to keep him. She had raised Jon - allowed everyone to believe that he was her husband's bastard, had suffered shame and ridicule - because of her love for her husband. Nysa burned an entire castle to protect them. You would do anything for those you love. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized where Nysa's mercy came from.

"I do not," Ser Daron answered him. "But if my son still lives," he glanced around the room to see it empty of children, "my son could tell you what this man looked like."

Robb nodded as a few people murmured.

"My King," Ser Perwyn stepped forward again. "What is it that you wish for us to do with them?"

Robb thought a moment before walking towards the Lannister knight. "My wife offered mercy to those in House Frey - even after they betrayed me. I offer mercy to House Lannister on this day. I know my word means nothing to you, Ser," he stared at the knight. "But I will find the man who killed your wife and daughter. Your lives will be spared - don't make me regret that," he took a step back. "However," he nodded towards Ser Perwyn, "you still didn't bend the knee and therefore, you'll be imprisoned."

* * *

Leila stood there, slightly irritated that she was being brought before the King. She hoped that he wasn't planning on making her his whore. If he was, then he would be sorely mistaken. She wasn't someone that would be easily taken.

The guard, knight - or whomever he was - that escorted her to the room was kind enough, she supposed. But other than that, she wasn't going to relent and show respect or cordiality to her captors. She was a lion! Not that they needed to know any of that.

She had heard that her brother and cousins were imprisoned and now they were looking for her nephew, Darion. She would never tell them where he was - never tell them who she was. If they found out she was a Lannister, that wouldn't protect her. Leila didn't care if the Queen of the North was keeping Lannister boys safe. Good on her, may the gods bless her - Leila thought indignantly. But she wasn't going to be cuddled, like some child. No, she was not. She was a lion!

"Ah, Jory," the King of the North called for the man to bring her forward.

He - Jory - simply held his arm up. She had shouted at him earlier for touching her arm. And he immediately apologized for the gesture. Of course, he looked sincere. But still, she thought holding up her chin as she entered the room - she wasn't going to trust any man from the North.

"My Lady," the King gestured to a chair.

"I am no Lady," she quickly lied, refusing to sit.

King Robb sighed and nodded before stepping towards the bed. Leila moved and noticed that a man - a northern man - lay injured. "This is Lord Harrion Karstark. He is a dear friend of mine and the Queen's. He is almost like a brother to her," he explained, glancing at her before looking back. "He was injured by one of your guards here."

"There were many northerners injured by the guards here," she replied hotly.

He chuckled and glanced at her.

"Your Grace," she finished and looked away in a huff.

"You are right, there were," he acknowledged before his attention moved back to the bed. "On both sides," he added which made her narrow her eyes at him. She noticed his lips twitched into a smile. He was obviously attempting to goad her. Well, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Raising her chin again, Leila looked at the man lying in the bed. "I am told that Ser Daron Lannister will not bend the knee until I've brought his wife's murderer to justice. And truth be told, I cannot do so until the man is pointed out to me."

"You would really pass judgement against one of your Lords?"

"My wife most certainly would," the King faced her, determination and truth upon his face. She had never met someone who made decisions based upon their wife's opinion. Not even Cersei could control her husband or her son - at least that's what her cousins were speaking of the day before the attack at sup. "This Lord has lost much. His father murdered by a traitorous Lord, his brothers both killed. His home and castle were under attack by the Ironborn. I don't think I could return to my wife or to the North, knowing that House Karstark has been completely eliminated." She noticed his features softened. "Will you help me, make him better?"

* * *

Nysa offered her mother-by-law a smile as the babe - cleaned, wrinkled and crying - was brought towards her. Though it was still too soon, they were saying that the babe favored Nysa in coloring. She smiled as she reached out for the small bundle, squirming and kicking.

"It's so tiny," Nysa said as Lady Catelyn and Lady Maege helped her to sit up. Marissa and Sheira placed more cushions behind her so that she was propped up.

Her body ached, showing signs of exhaustion but she pushed that away as she touched her child's little nose. The little hands with its little fingers moved and flexed. Being confined for such a long time, Nysa remembered that some babies often enjoyed being bundled tightly while others - like Arya - were restless, continuing to kick and squirm, enjoying their discovery of new movement.

Holding the baby to her body, feeling the skin against hers was an overwhelming feeling. She had brought life into this world, she had borne a child. She knew that it was possible, but to be a part of it. It was moving and exhilarating - and frightening, if she had to admit - all at the same time.

"Oh, have you ever seen anything so precious," Nysa commented as Lady Catelyn laughed lightly.

"They're all like that at this age," she replied, watching as Nysa opened her mouth the same way that the babe did. The babe settled against Nysa's chest, her crying ceasing as mother and child slowly bonded.

"Congratulations, my Queen," Maege Mormont stood at the edge of the bed, smiling at her.

"Yes, congratulations my Queen," Marissa curtsied as did Sheira Blackwood. The two young women smiled at one another before their eyes turned to watch the little bundle in the Queen's arms wiggle and coo.

"Shall I send word to the King," Lyra asked, her eyes wet with joyful tears.

"Oh, Robb," Nysa choked out an ecstatic sob before looking down at the child. "He'll never let me hear the end of it."

Lady Catelyn smiled. "About knowing you were going to bear him a son," she stated, before touching the babe's head gently as it attempted to find Nysa's breasts. She helped guide her grandson as Nysa moved, looking to her for approval. "You'll do wonderfully," Catelyn stated before moving from the bed. "Lyra," she looked up at the young woman. "Have someone send word to Casterly Rock," she looked happily down at her grandson. "A Prince has been born."

* * *

 **AN: So, I am introducing two OCs in this chapter. I have been attempting to stay true to the characters that have been offered since there are so many characters in ASOFAI. But you'll meet two young women who will help Nysa (or Rhaenys) later in this story.  
One of them is Leila Lannister - she is the youngest daughter of Jason Lannister, the youngest sister of Joanna and Ser Stafford.  
The second person is Sheira Blackwood - I wanted to make her the daughter of Lord Tytos. However, I read somewhere that he loved his daughter very much and so I highly doubt that he would allow the Queen to take her back to the North. Instead, she is his niece.  
And yes, a Prince is born... Like finally, right? She's been pregnant so long. **


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

Leila moved her hands from her ears and stared at the wall in frustration. The broth that she had retrieved from the kitchen had been slung across the wall. She had never - in all her life - met someone so ungrateful, so disrespectful. She whirled around and turned to the young Northern Lord, ready to let him have it. "How dare you," she screeched, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I won't be fed like a child!"

"How do you expect to eat then? You can't necessarily feed yourself."

"I'm going to goddamn do my best to," he shot back.

"You cannot even move your arm, my Lord! Do you really think..."

"I can move it just fine," he argued, moving to sit up.

"Oh no, you don't," Leila hurried towards the bed and sat on his chest.

Harrion grunted, wincing slightly - but Leila remained undeterred in the least. She adjusted her body until she was close to his face, pressing him into the bed. "You are not in charge of me," he huffed, like any man would.

From the moment that he had awaken, Harrion Karstark argued with her. He didn't like being confined to a bed, he didn't like laying there as his men and the other Lords discussed ransoming one of the Stark Princesses, he didn't enjoy her coddling him as though he were a babe. After the first day, she had called for the Wolf King - demanded that he send someone else to care for the Lord. But he insisted it was her - he had some ulterior motive - that much she knew. She was a lion. She could smell a scheme.

Oh, and Lord Karstark, she thought with an unladylike snort, she was slowly losing her patience with him. She came close to suffocated him with a cushion as he slept. Leila would have ensured that he finished his life course in a comfortable manner - well fed and resting in bed. Most Lords desired a peaceful death, didn't they? Fortunately for him, she never followed through on her plot. No, she continued to feed him, tend to him - and deliver messages for him as though she were a serving maid. The gall of this northern brute.

When he had tried to buck her off, Leila quickly reached over for the other bowl - her bowl - and poured half of the contents into this mouth as he begun to complain. Why were all men so stubborn? He swallowed some before breaking out into a hysterical coughing fit. Leila simply rolled her eyes and grabbed the nearby cloth to wipe the drool and mess around him.

"Why are you behaving so unruly, my Lord?"

"Because my Lady," he grunted under her, "you're being rather rude."

"I'm being rude," she questioned him with a salty expression. "Your King demanded that I get you well, help you recover. I cannot do my part with you conducting yourself in such a childish manner," she emphasized by jabbing her finger at his chest. "Now, open your mouth!"

Leila began to pour the rest of the contents in the bowl. He gulped and swallowed them eagerly, eyeing her heavily. She could give just as good. So, her eyes narrowed at him as she sat on his chest. He didn't say anything as she continued to feed him. And when it was all gone, she slowly climbed off and began to change the sheets around so that he wasn't resting in a soiled bed.

When her hand went to grab the bowl, he had flown across the room, she heard him call. "What is your name, my Lady?"

Leila gulped and turned to face him. "Leila, my Lord. I'm merely a kitchen maid."

He didn't believe her - that much was certain. But he closed his eyes and laid back on the bed. "Thank you, Leila," he responded. She didn't know how to respond, so she simply retreated from the room.

* * *

Ser Barristan smiled as the Queen Rhaenys smothered her little Prince with kisses. "She looks so much like her mother," he said as the other guards with him stopped in their task. A few of them snorted and returned to their work. He knew that he wasn't a welcomed sight - especially since he had served King Robert Baratheon. Or perhaps their distaste had come because he served King Aerys Targaryen.

"They don't trust you," one of the northern guards came to stand next to him. She had heard the Queen call him 'Smalljon'. This 'Smalljon' turned to him. "I don't know if I trust you, either."

"I can understand why you wouldn't," Ser Barristan nodded and looked back at the young Queen.

"However, I trust you more than that one there," he gestured with his head towards Ser Jamie Lannister - who was currently being tended to by his 'niece' Princess Myrcella and her cousin Rosamund Lannister - three golden haired lions.

"He is of little concern now that he is crippled," Ser Barristan replied as Smalljon chuckled.

"I never thought the Queen would do such a thing."

"Never?"

Smalljon studied the knight next to him before glancing out towards the Kingslayer. "She saved my mother. I'm not sure if you've heard of the story." The old knight shook his head, interested in what had become of the Queen after she had left the South. "After I and Osric, my mother lost their third child - another son. When she was with child again, they were delighted and scared. Lord Eddard Stark sent the young Nysa to our castle. She helped deliver a healthy baby girl. But my mother remained ill for nearly three of Arra's name-days. There was talk that my father was - or should have - cast my mother aside to find a healthier wife, to continue giving him sons. And so, Nysa was sent for again. Wildlings had attacked one of the nearby villages. It was the first time I had gone out with my father and the other Lords to help. When we returned, my mother stood at the gates, smiling at my father."

Smalljon turned to face Ser Barristan.

"My father had never leapt off his horse so quickly before," the knight watched as the young man's smile widened. "She bore my father two more sons - both healthy and strong. House Umber will forever be grateful to House Stark and," he paused and glanced out at the young Queen, "and now to House Targaryen. It is obvious that she got her skill to heal from her father's House."

Ser Barristan didn't need the young man to elaborate more - he knew that it was hard for a lot of the northerners to accept the Queen as being from House Targaryen. They had readily accepted her as a bastard - the daughter of a fallen northern knight. But no one had expected that she would be of noble blood, the same noble blood that they had lifted their swords against and set out to destroy.

"She has an abundance of compassion. That," Smalljon paused, "that is something I believe she learned from the North. It wasn't anything inherited from her House."

"I find we might disagree on that matter, Northmen," he replied. "Both of her parents were compassionate people."

He scoffed.

"The King has left you in charge of her safety, hasn't he," Ser Barristan asked him.

Smalljon gave him a nod.

"Good," Ser Barristan nodded. "She'll need trusted friends in the coming days." They both watched as Lady Catelyn and a few other Ladies came by the Queen - marveling over the babe.

"Something is happening," Smalljon questioned, wondering where the old knight's thoughts were being directed to.

"I can sense it," was the knight's response. "The air around us is too quiet." Smalljon looked around him as both men quieted. He could feel it too, the sense of calm and ease. The war was far from over.

"And where do your loyalties lie," he asked suddenly causing the old knight to look at him. "You questioned me, I felt it right that I too question you. Your arrival with the Dornishmen is out of place, if I must say so myself. Why were you heading there, to them?"

"Though it is not your place to know my affairs," the old knight considered him. "We have a common goal and that is to protect the Queen. If you must know, I was attempting to find her brother."

"Ah, yes," he nodded. "Jon."

"Prince Rhaegar had agreed to take him in. It had been done before - Kings had more than one wife."

"It would never be acknowledged," Smalljon reminded him.

"Queen Rhaenys will make it so," he nodded to her.

"She'll suffer some sort of repercussion from the people."

"And that is why she'll need trusted friends," Ser Barristan added. "There is more to winning this war, than winning battles. Lady Catelyn has explained some of that to Queen Rhaenys. She also needs to win the favor of the people. The people remember a good King and Queen. Songs and battles and prayers are dedicated to them."

"And so, you set out to find Jon?"

Ser Barristan took a deep breath. "I feel indebted to him. I feel indebted to her," he nodded to the Queen. "I've failed their father. According to the Lannisters, I failed King Robert - though I'm sure that is something that they probably wanted. Unlike the other knights, I take my oath as Kingsguard seriously. I do not want to fail another. In fact, I'm hoping to make amends for my actions and protect the children of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen."

"You were at war," Smalljon stated. "Men die during war," he spared the old knight a glance, trying to convey his sympathy.

The old knight chuckled. "Aye, they do. But I'm praying that this time, they don't." He turned to fully face the young Northmen. "The sword that the Queen carries?"

" _Maiden's Mercy_ ," Smalljon answered.

"I remember one of my previous sworn brothers - Prince Lewyn Martell," he named. "He told Prince Rhaegar that their family had found one of the ancestral swords belonging to House Targaryen. And they had hoped to give it to the young Prince Aegon when the time was right."

Smalljon's eyes widened before looking at Nysa - the Valyrian steel sword kept on her side. Memories and tales flooded his mind before he shook his head with laughter. "It's a shame that such a sword is wasted on little talent," he smiled broadly. The older knight glared at him. He put up his arms in surrender, continuing to smile. "She is a good archer - possibly one of the best. Her Uncle - forgive me - one of the northern knights, Ser Rodrik, taught her just as well as the other young lads at Winterfell. And if I remember correctly, she was also taught by House Mormont and House Karstark. But you will find that the sword is not - and probably never was - her strong suit. Get a bow in her hands and she'll hit every mark," he nodded.

Majority of the Targaryen Princesses were great archers, Ser Barristan had to admit. However, he wanted to point out to this young Northmen that the sword wasn't something that her father had preferred either. He had loved the people - the common people. And it was obvious that Queen Rhaenys had shared that trait with her father.

"She can't be that horrid with the sword," a voice chuckled behind them. Ser Barristan noticed an irritated expression flicker upon the Northmen before they both turned to greet Prince Oberyn. "After all, the Queen did kill the Mountain."

"Aye," Smalljon agreed, "after shooting him with a dozen arrows. But the final death came at the hands of a dagger - not a sword."

"Years from now when they tell the tale and sing the song," Prince Oberyn looked at him with a mischievous smile, "do you think they'll sing of the Queen in flower gardens or the Queen who breathes fire. Death is death," he commented, "and that is what is remembered."

Ser Barristan turned to him fully. "We were just discussing the Queen's talent for healing, archery and," he paused, "compassion."

Prince Oberyn went to reply but was halted when one some of the men began shouting and cheering. Smalljon and Ser Barristan withdrew their swords. Lady Catelyn had picked up Nysa, bring her and the babe into her arms, looking around in alarm. Ser Donnel Locke appeared then on a horse, holding onto a Stark banner.

He leaped off before kneeling before the Queen. Looking up with a smile, he announced the news, "Casterly Rock has been taken, my Queen. The King lives and is discussions with the Iron Throne for the release of Princess Sansa."

Lady Catelyn and the young Queen wrapped one another in a warm embrace, joyfully sobbing as the men around them cheered.

* * *

Dacey entered the room, stepping to the side, allowing the three men to enter. She knew that one of them was from House Blackwood. He bowed to her before bowing to the King.

Robb gestured for them to step closer. "And what have we here," he asked, taking the letter from the outstretched hand.

"A letter from your mother, my King," the guard replied.

Robb tore through the seal, quickly unfurling the parchment. Only two sentences were written, but there were enough.

 _The Queen and babe are well. A Prince has been born._

The Wolf King jumped from his seat and turned to Greatjon Umber, "I have a son!"

The Greatjon stood and clasped his hand on the young King's shoulder, "Well done, my King." He turned to face the other Lords and men in the room with him. "To the King, to the Queen, and to the new Prince," Greatjon bellowed as the rest of them shouted.

Robb smiled and felt his heart pounding faster than he thought it ever would. The men cheered for him, but he knew that Nysa had done the arduous work. She had carried their son in her for moons. She had been the one to bring him into this world. His eyes fell on that first sentence as cheers were filled in the halls of Casterly Rock at the news of a Prince being born. Nysa was well. They both were well.

Outside he heard the howls of Grey Wind. He could discern that the wolf was rejoicing, he could tell. Robb smiled and chuckled at the sound before receiving more congratulations and praise.

He could not wait to see his son, hold him in his arms, watch him walk and smile and laugh. He was in an even greater hurry to return to the North, teach his son everything that his father had taught him. Robb wondered what he looked like, what House the child would favor. And slowly he found that he did not care. He loved the child already, loved it though he did not see it. He stared at the letter once more, reading it and drawing strength from its words.

Nysa and his child were waiting for him. Gods be good, he had a son. And his wife was safe.

Robb nodded to the men and Lords who continued to pat him on the back. But as he looked out over the land around him - there was only one other man he wished was here. And that was his own father.

 _I remember the first time I held you in my arms, that was the first time I felt like a man._

Childhood memories of long ago, of being taught by his father, of watching his brothers and sisters play and run in the woods, the yard and through the halls. His father and mother smiling in approval at him, his father leaving him in charge of Winterfell before he departed. And before Robb knew it, a small tear for his father had trickled down his cheek. He wiped at it quickly before reading the letter once more, determined more than ever that he would bring his family back home.

* * *

A cool breeze hit her as she entered the room. It carried with it the smell of the sea and everything she had loved as a child. She wasn't part of _the_ Lannister family, but she was still a Lannister - her eldest sister Joanna was the previous Lady of Casterly Rock. And that afforded her time at Casterly Rock - a lot of time in this beautiful castle and all of its luxuries.

"My Lord," Leila chastised, hurrying to get him inside from the cool air. He sat on the balcony, staring out at the sea. "It's too cold out here. You'll freeze to death."

Harrion laughed lightly at her. "I was raised in the North, my Lady," he reminded her as she stopped fussing over him. She placed the furs at his side. If he wanted them, they were there. But it was obvious the chill in the air didn't bother him. "This is actually quite warm for me - too warm."

Leila shook her head and took a seat on a chair next to him. "Winter will be coming soon. You can feel it," she reached her hand out as a sea breeze blew by. "The smell of the sea changes."

"It does change," he smiled. "I remember once when I was a lad, I licked the salt off my skin after my first hunt and could tell - could taste it," he described as she also smiled, feeling enraptured. "Winter was coming - the Starks were right. As descendants from House Stark - my father said that we could tell also. We are the sons of Winter, after all."

"That's beautiful," she whispered, her cheeks warm as he glanced at her. He had heard her reply. Leila cleared her throat. "It must always feel like Winter in the North," she stated as he nodded.

"It does. But even in the North, the days are warm during Summer. Hot even," he teased. And she blushed! Leila never blushed. She looked away but kept the smile on her face. "How many Winters have you seen?"

"Three," she hated to admit it but the smile on his face didn't go away.

"Four," he replied.

Leila studied him before shaking her head. "I do not believe you."

"Well, I do not believe that you have seen the amount that you have," he regarded her. "You still appear youthful and ready for life."

She laughed lightly, the sound was beautiful to his ears - at least he'd admit that much to himself. Though he still found her a bit infuriating for her constant coddling and worrying. He was a commanding soldier, a skilled hunter and a brave man - not some minstrel that only stayed in courts and the halls of nobleman.

"My mother would disagree with you," she sighed.

Her mother was at Lannisport - at least that was the last that she heard. It was one of the few places the Northmen had conquered. House Prester had surrendered, something that caused outrage among Loren, Daron and even Stafford - her brothers. Loren had taken his daughters to Kings Landing before the surrender. So, a part of her blamed her brother's departure on their mother's House bending its knee. They never would have had a Lion stayed to protect its den.

Then again, she thought the same of Casterly Rock and look at where she was now.

Leila looked out at Lannisport - amazed that she could see the ships in the distance. It always held its own sort of beauty - the ships sailing on the horizon. She'd wondered where they went, felt the breeze blow through her hair and smell the salt tickle her senses. It was enchanting to be out there. She was the youngest, so that meant she was left to her own vices. Of course, her mother had left her unchecked during her youth that by the time she had seen several name-days, she wasn't satisfied to play pleasantries in court.

Lannisport had been home for a brief time after her father had died. But then her eldest sister had married Tywin and that had elevated their family just a tiny bit. After Joanna had passed, their mother had always hoped that Leila would be promised to Jamie. But then Jamie had become a Kingsguard and that put an end to any thoughts of another daughter becoming Lady to Casterly Rock.

Then there was talk about her wedding Lancel Lannister, the son of Ser Kevan. It was possible that Tywin would name his brother the heir of Casterly Rock and in turn Lancel would inherit it. But the boy - and he was a boy in Leila's eyes - was spineless and unintelligent. Of course, she was getting older and her mother told her that she couldn't be picky at her age. But she just wasn't moved to matrimony. And many Lords or knights didn't see _her_ , they only saw the name.

Her siblings had wed into House Lefford, House Marband, House Crakehall and House Swyft. Of course, she came from a great House - a lower branch of that House, but a Great House nonetheless.

Regardless of her status, she was content. Her mother called her wild, but she would rather stay a maid then wed a man deep in his cups or fathered bastards at every whore house in every village. Her mind worked differently. She wasn't sure why.

"You seem to be lost in thought," Harrion Karstark observed, pulling her back to the present.

"I am just thinking of my," she paused because she had almost said kin. She didn't want him to know who she was.

"You have a husband in the cells," he asked suddenly, studying her with keen eyes. Her body jerked slightly in shock. Before she shook her head. "No husband," he raised an eyebrow.

Again, Leila shook her head. "I've never wed."

He snorted and shook his head. "My own sister was betrothed on her tenth name-day. Now she is fourteen and if I understand correctly, is waiting for me to return North so I can give her away to her Lord. You are beautiful, my Lady - if you'll excuse me for being so forward with you. I just assumed that you were tending to me to spare your husband's life."

"Well, I have no husband," she straightened. "And your King requested that I tend to you. And I've already told you once before that I am no Lady, my Lord."

Before she could register it, he leaned over and gently ran his hands through her hair. She sucked in a deep breath as their eyes met. He continued to pet her hair and stare at her. Leaning forward he took in her scent, smiling as he pulled back.

"You are no mere serving maid, I know this," the Northern Lord smiled smugly as he settled back in his own chair, withdrawing his hand from her waves.

She wanted to ask how he knew but the answer was clear - the Lord had bedded serving maids, probably many serving maids. That was something that didn't sit well with her. She didn't want to share her husband with other women. If a woman was to do such a thing, she'd be labelled a whore. But a man - he was able to do anything he pleased. Something was wrong with that. And no amount of Lannister blood in her would compel a man to stay away from a whorehouse - the Queen Mother was an excellent example of that.

"You're upset with me for discovering your secret," he assumed.

"No. There is no secret."

He snorted again. "My Lady, you are a liar." She glared at him before staring back out at the ships. "You are protecting someone - that much is certain. Perhaps a lover is in the cells," he suggested.

This time she stood up, flustered and annoyed. They were enjoying a wonderful conversation - the first time she looked at him as a person, not just some stubborn Northern Lord. At the same time, she felt as though he was looking at her, not her House.

"There is no lover in the cells," Leila replied hotly. "Now if you'll excuse me my Lord," she picked up her skirts and made her way to the door.

"What about sup," he questioned.

"I'll send someone else to bring it up to you," she shouted - actually shouted - before slamming the door behind her. "Men are such insufferable beasts! Argh," she stomped her foot and thanked the Seven that she had not wed.

* * *

Tyrion watched the smallest flicker of a smile grace his wife's lips before she hid behind her cup. He reached his hand down to hold her hand as his father continued to read the letter. He knew that she was deriving some sort of comfort from the news. Before whenever her brother had been victorious, she was beaten and stripped in the throne room - verbally mocked by the King. Now she was a Lady Lannister - though she never called herself one - and that held some sort of power that allowed her to display her emotions, though small and concealed.

He watched as Cersei's face twisted in annoyance then as the letter stated that the King of the North and of the Trident held her precious Jamie once again. His father's fingers tightened on the letter - the only show of emotion - before he settled it on the table. Tywin Lannister looked up at the men before him, studying them with a calculative eye.

Ser Stafford Lannister and a few others from House Lannister had delivered the news to his father - and had also delivered the letter requesting that the 'young Wolf' have his sister returned to him immediately. Ser Kevan sat next to Tywin. Cersei on the other side. As Tyrion sat on the opposite end of his father, with Sansa by his side.

"If he wants his sister, tell him that he will receive her," Tywin replied.

"Father, surely..."

He merely tapped his hand and Tyrion smiled in delight at seeing his sister silenced. "She is after all, Lady of Casterly Rock." He glanced Sansa's way as Tyrion's hold on her tightened. "I was told that you have not yet had your moon's blood."

"I," she paused, her cheeks turning red before glancing down.

Tyrion wondered why she had not. He certainly had not bedded her. However, the thought of her bedding another did not enter his mind either. He knew that Sansa was a proper Lady. She would never do such a thing. Tyrion licked his lips and looked at his father. "And you know this because..."

"Your cousin Lorena reported it to me. Apparently, Lady Sansa mentioned it during her name-day celebration." Tyrion looked back at Sansa, noticing that she was a bit irritated and apprehensive. "I hope you didn't find it insulting, my dear," Tywin replied. "I had Tyrion place Lorena and Lya there to ensure that a Lannister heir might be born."

"I was simply musing that it hadn't arrived yet," Sansa replied, discussing her moon's blood. Although it was obvious from her blush that she didn't like the topic to be so out in the open. "It could be false, my Lord."

"Either way, you are bond to House Lannister whether your brother likes it or not," he folded the letter. "You may go to Casterly Rock, you and your husband."

"Father," Tyrion laughed. "The King in the North might not take so kindly to knowing that I am wedded to his sister."

"Then let us pray to the Seven that he spare your life," Tywin said as he stood. "Tyrion prepare yourself and your wife for your departure. We'll send you to that boy in the morning."

His father began to exit the room, but not before turning to face his kin.

"Ser Kevan, Ser Stafford and Ser Loren - might I beg another audience with the three of you. I will see the rest of you tomorrow. Good night," he nodded.

Cersei stood up, looking affronted before glancing at her brother and his wife.

"It seems that you'll be returning to your kin, little dove."

Sansa must have known what Cersei was doing because she leaned over - surprising Tyrion - and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "We will both be returning to our kin. Won't it be exciting husband, to hear the little footfalls of a lion cub in Casterly Rock once again? Our golden-haired children." She looked at Tyrion with such sincerity and honesty, that he had believed her mask of flattery.

Cersei stepped forward, ready to reply but Sansa cut her off.

"Can you imagine me having true-born Lannister lions," she added as Cersei faltered. "I bid you farewell, Queen mother. I should pray that the Gods keep you well as you journey to Highgarden." Sansa smiled prettily as Cersei straightened before giving her a small bow.

"And I should do the same, little dove."

Tyrion had never seen Cersei so lost for words. He didn't have much time to contemplate it before his wife turned to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He held her close as her body trembled with soft sobs. She pulled back and gave him a brilliant smile - one he had not seen in a long time. Sansa Stark was truly a beauty in her own right. Her thick autumn hair and those deep blue eyes - deep as the sea, Tyrion thought.

"I could die of such happiness," she stated as she smiled brightly.

Tyrion reached out and touched her cheek. "I am pleased to find you happy once more, my wife. Although, do not die on me just yet. I believe you promised me, little lion cubs."

They both shared a laugh - which lightened their hearts. Tyrion held out his arm and Sansa welcomed the gesture, falling into his embrace once more as they held each other in the tiny room, oblivious to the plot Tywin Lannister was scheming.

* * *

Queen Rhaenys studied the woman before her.

"Your Grace," Smalljon stopped in front of her, bowing his head. "The woman here says that she is from King's Landing, says she needs to see you."

Nysa smiled and looked around. "I see the ravens travel quickly," she teased.

The woman smiled. "I did not hear news of the little Prince until I reached the gates. Neither had I known about Casterly Rock. I had been on my way to journey here to speak with the King."

There was something about the woman that irritated the young Queen. "Why do you look so familiar," Nysa asked her.

"I am from the North, my Queen," she then attempted another curtsy.

Nysa nodded. "Were you from the village near Karhold? Or perhaps near Long Hall," Nysa pressed.

"I came from Winter's town."

"That is closer to where I lived. Have I met you, before?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I doubt it, my Queen, for I worked at the brothel there." Immediate murmurs fell through the hall. She cast her eyes on several of the guards, including a few from House Umber and House Glover. "Before the war started, I left to go to King's Landing."

Nysa released a snicker before sitting back in her chair. "You worked for Lord Petyr Baelish," she stated, more so than questioned.

"I did." Nysa cast her eyes towards Lady Tyta who immediately grabbed the woman and began leading her away. "No, please! I have something important to tell you."

"I will not listen to anything you have to say from Petyr Baelish," Nysa snorted before nodding her head towards the exit.

"But it was not him who sent me," she protested.

"Lord Varys, then," Nysa truly laughed, "that's even worst, see her out. And I do not want to find anyone keeping her in their bed, not here in the Riverlands or in the North," Nysa commanded. "We don't know what information she is trying to get on us."

"I'm not trying to get information," she called from the doorway. "Please! I have word from Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa!"

"Stop," Catelyn stood up causing Tyta to halt.

"We cannot trust her, she works for Littlefinger," Nysa explained.

"I do not," she proclaimed as she pulled her arm away from Tyta and straightened herself out. "I work for Lord Varys."

"Lord Varys is a Eunuch," Nysa replied, "I was in King's Landing long enough to hear the stories Littlefinger told about everyone on the small council. There's no way that you could _work_ for him."

"I am more than just someone who warms a bed, my Queen. I thought that you would understand that as well as anyone else."

"If you're referring to my bastardy..."

"Forgive me," she bowed quickly. "I meant no insult. I merely wished that we could come to an understanding. We both are not what the world makes us out to be. There's no way to change the fate the Gods give us. Sometimes, we can climb out from where we are. Sometimes, we cannot. But we take what advantages are given us. I would have died in that brothel. Lord Varys offered me a way out."

"You are spying on Baelish for Varys," Nysa tilted her head, "my, my, he would not like that one bit."

"He discovered it," she gulped and looked down. "I was reporting on his movements as regards Lady Sansa."

"And is it only for Lord Varys' benefit?"

The woman bit her bottom lip.

"If it's anything I've learned about Littlefinger is that he does not like to be outsmarted. He prides himself on trickery and deceit. He's an arrogant bastard who thinks too highly of himself," Nysa commented. "Varys, well," she exhaled a deep breath. "I didn't come to trust him either while I was there. Lord Stark told me not to trust anyone while I was there, especially those two. I think I've learned my lesson. I won't be hearing any more of their lies. And you can tell him that when you go back to King's Landing."

"He'll kill me if I return!"

"Such sad stories," Nysa closed her eyes and waved her hand.

"She has word on Sansa," Catelyn pleaded.

"Word from Baelish, word from Varys," Nysa turned to her. "They are manipulators, Lady Catelyn. And we all remember what trouble was caused the last time we listened to words from Baelish."

"Only my word comes from Lady Sansa herself!"

"Liar," Arya shouted at her.

"I'm not lying," she pulled out a parchment from inside her dress and held it out for Nysa.

Nysa looked with bored eyes before gesturing for someone to get the letter for her and bring it to her. She sighed when Smalljon handed it over and began to unroll it. Immediately she recognized Sansa's writing.

"What is your name," Lady Catelyn asked her.

"My name is Ros, my Lady," another curtsy. "And as you can see, the letter is her Lady's handwriting," Ros pressed.

"This could be the Queen regent's words again..."

"I assure you they're not," Ros replied. "I saw Lady Sansa write the letter herself, my Queen. After..."

Nysa lifted her head and stared at the woman. "After what?"

Ros paused for a moment before glancing at Nysa. "Ser Preston Greenfield was executed."

"No," Nysa gasped.

"That's how I knew Lord Baelish couldn't be trusted. Lord Varys found out that Ser Preston was keeping Lady Sansa safe, a promise that he had made to you before you left the Capital. The King Joffrey called him into the throne room and commanded the other Kingsguards who were present to fight him - punishment for being a traitor to his King."

Rhaenys glanced at Ser Barristan to see his grip tightened on his sword. He may not have been a Kingsguard anymore, but it was obvious the pain he felt for his sworn brother.

"He helped us escape King's Landing," Arya looked over at Nysa.

"They heard of that, too. Joffrey flew into a rage. By the time Lord Tywin heard of it," Ros shook her head and looked down to the floor, "Ser Preston's body lay in pieces and his head placed on a spike."

"Lady Sansa?"

Ros looked up.

"As you said before, I asked Ser Preston to look after her," Nysa explained. "What became of her after..."

"The King threatened her with all sorts of vileness. He had her stripped down in the throne room," Ros began as murmurs flew around in the hall. Lady Catelyn stood up and turned towards Nysa who was seething with anger. Nymeria paced back and forth in anger and frustration, snarling and snapping at seeing the three women in distress. Nysa was certain that if Lady were here, she would be the most aggressive at this point. "He brought her out to the wall where the spikes are, showed her that the empty one where her father's head used to be and suggested that perhaps the rest of her family will be up there soon."

"My Sansa," Lady Catelyn gripped her chest in grief as Nysa felt the tears pour out from her eyes as well.

"Lord Tywin reminded Joffrey that Sansa was to be his Aunt."

"His Aunt," Ser Barristan questioned.

"It's all in the letter, Ser," Ros said.

Nysa sighed again and looked down at the letter. " _By the time you receive this, I will have been wed to Lord Tyrion_ ," Nysa said slowly and looked at Catelyn briefly before returning to the letter.

"Impossible," Prince Oberyn muttered.

" _I know that you've probably received word that Joffrey is to marry Lady Margery, so I was freed of that sort of cruelty. But apparently, I am still - in my own way - a prisoner here at King's Landing. Tyrion has assured me that this letter would reach you all and I believe him. Although, I've been guarded since Ser Preston's death."_

"The other Kingsguards," Nysa asked Ros, "do they still mistreat the King's sister?"

"I'm sure things are better since she became Lord Tyrion's wife," Ros answered. "In truth, I was on my way here, the day before Lady Sansa was to wed."

"The letter," Lady Catelyn urged Rhaenys to continue reading.

 _"Forgive me Nysa for all the unkind and harsh words I told you while you were here in the Capital_ ," Nysa startled and felt her voice crack. " _I know you will not believe this Arya,"_ she looked over to see the girl standing at attention, _"but you will always be my horse-face sister. I miss you - even our fights_."

Arya laughed and then turned away to hide the tears forming in her eyes.

" _I miss you, Robb. I cannot believe you are a King. I'm sure you are ten times the King than the one who sits on the Iron throne. Mother, I hope you can forgive me. I told Nysa and father that I did not want to see you_ ," she cast her eyes on Lady Catelyn. " _I remember desiring Cersei to be my mother. It was a foolish, girlhood nonsense, I suppose. I love you, mother. I pray for Bran and Rickon and father."_

"She has not heard that they are alive," Arya commented.

"The letter has been delayed some," Lyra reminded.

Nysa gritted her teeth as she read the next sentence.

 _"I pray that Theon hide in the depths of the sea for I know Robb and Nysa will not let him go unpunished. Though I am far, I know I am not alone - for the entire North follows my House. No matter whom they make me wed, I know that I will always be a Stark. Sansa,"_ Nysa finished the letter and looked around before pulling out another small parchment.

"That one is from Lord Tyrion," Ros spoke up.

"She took a notable risk to write us," Catelyn said as Nysa handed her Sansa's letter.

"The words sound more like Lady Sansa," Lyra agreed. "More than that rubbish she sent the first time," she nodded as the other Lords murmured in agreement.

"And this one," Nysa held up the smaller one, "you say is from Lord Tyrion?" Ros nodded her head. Nysa slowly opened it and scanned her eyes through the letter, wondering if she was to read it in front of the Lords as she had with Sansa's. She sighed and then went to stand. "He is thankful that you were able to receive Lord Stark's bones, Lady Catelyn," she glanced at her before looking down at the letter. "He also assures you and Robb that he will do everything in his power to see that Sansa is kept safe." She handed the letter to Lady Catelyn to read through. It was shorter than Sansa's - possibly because he knew that the northerners would rather hear from Sansa than him. "She is wed to Tyrion Lannister."

"Yes, my Queen," Ros replied.

"Someone needs to let the King know," Smalljon stepped forward.

"Indeed," Ser Barristan added. "Especially if he's captured Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister may not allow Sansa to leave now. No matter how many castles the King in the North takes."

* * *

Leila sat in the kitchen eating her meal and thinking of her brother. She had been told that the King of the North had released a few Lannister men to send a message to Lord Tywin. Whatever it was that he wanted, she was certain that he would never get it. Lord Tywin Lannister wasn't one to give in easily. He'd roar and claw at his enemies as much as any lion would.

"My Lady, have you heard," one of the maids asked her. "They say that a Prince was born."

"A Northern Prince," Leila questioned as they nodded. Although Leila was certain that they would claim this wolf pup as a Prince of the Iron Throne. She sighed and fiddled with her bread before slowly getting up. "Thank you, Daisy."

"You're most welcome, my Lady."

"And you, Rin," Leila turned to the older woman in the kitchen. "Are the Northmen treating you and your daughter well?"

"No one has bothered us, my Lady. Although, I've heard that there a few of the girls at the stables and kennels who have been keeping their beds warm."

"They're willingly bedding these foul Northern beasts," Leila appeared insulted.

"I've heard there are many talented Northmen, my Lady," Daisy smiled but not before her mother, Rin, hit her hand.

The older woman whispered something to her daughter before Daisy disappeared into the back of the kitchen. "Forgive her, my Lady. She seems quite taken with Lord Karstark."

Her eyes widened as a strong surge of heat passed through her. She wasn't certain why. Leila shouldn't have cared much about what that oaf of a man was doing. She had been spending less time with Lord Karstark since his health was returning. But the thought of another going to tend to him wasn't sitting well with her.

"Has she gone often to see him?"

"I'm not certain, my Lady," Rin looked frightened at seeing the young woman's offense.

Leila gave her a reassuring smile before nodding to her. "I was merely curious, Rin. There is no offense." She looked around before deciding that it was time she visit the Lord herself. "Forgive me, Rin. I have something I need to attend to."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Queen Rhaenys had left Alyx and Merianne Frey to look over her son. She would have preferred Lady Sheira Blackwood to stay with them - the woman was older and had a good head on her shoulders. However, where she was going she needed some guidance and wisdom. Lyra, Wyl and Waylyn were also there with her son, so she knew that if her son needed her, the guards would fetch her immediately.

She strolled through the hall until her eyes landed on Princess Myrcella breaking her fast with her cousin Rosamund and Ser Jamie. Her feet stilled for a moment before she realized that Harrion's words he had spoken to her were correct. She had been addressing the Kingslayer differently. And a part of her didn't like it.

Princess Myrcella and Rosamund were to leave today. Prince Oberyn had assured her that they would be delivered safely back to Dorne - and to her betrothed. She was appalled that they had dragged the young woman through such an ordeal. Upon seeing the Queen drawing closer, Myrcella and Rosamund began to straighten out their dresses and correcting their posture.

"There is no need for such decorum, Princess, my Lady," Rhaenys assured them both before glancing at the Kingslayer. "And how do you fair on this day, Ser?"

"I am still alive," he smirked in response. "Although, I'm sure that is how you need me," he stretched out his arms - including the one where his hand was missing. Rhaenys heard Myrcella suck in a gasp but didn't address it. Rather she kept her eyes on the Kingslayer.

"Forgive me, Princess Myrcella, Lady Rosamund, I would beg a word with Ser Jamie," she smiled kindly, nodding her head in their direction but not quite meeting their gaze. They left - but not in a hurry as though they were in fear - both dropping into a curtsy before her. Rhaenys turned the other way and nodded as Ser Barristan, Smalljon and Corgan came to stand behind her. "Ser Jamie, this is Lady Sheira Blackwood - one of my Ladies."

"My Lady," he went to stand and bow before her.

"Kingslayer," Sheira replied. Neither Jamie nor Rhaenys missed the sharp way his title came out of Sheira's mouth.

Rhaenys smiled as she sat herself in Myrcella's vacated seat. Sheira stood next to Rhaenys' chair and studied the knight before her. Rhaenys wanted to make sure that everything went according to plan.

"Your brother is wed to Lady Sansa," she announced, waiting for his reaction. She hardly expected him to begin laughing. "Do you doubt its truth?"

"Never, my Queen. It sounds like something that my father would do, secure his position in the North - secure our family's position rather. With Tyrion wed to the Stark girl, in front of the Seven, in front of all those gathered at the Capital - there's not much that the young Wolf could do."

"I was afraid you might say that," she admitted.

"Is my brother that bad? He has faults - as do we all. However, I believe he would treat the girl kindly." Rhaenys narrowed her eyes. "Kinder than she would have been treated should Joffrey had wed her."

"Joffrey had her stripped in the throne room, abused by his Kingsguards," Rhaenys pointed out as Jamie's eyes widened slightly in shock before he turned away. "You've been away from the Capital for too long. Your sworn brothers have mishandled their oath."

"Our oath is to the King," he said in a tight voice.

Rhaenys glared at him. "But obviously yours was not. In more ways than one. You murdered one King and bedded another King's wife." He looked up at her with narrowed eyes. "I feel that you have paid for your actions to House Targaryen," she glanced at his absent hand before her eyes lowered to his leg sticking out from under the table.

"I will limp for life," he said through gritted teeth, "and I will never hold a sword again!" His anger was rising but Rhaenys kept her cool.

"And I will never speak to my mother or father again," she reminded, slowly standing from her chair. "I will never know about the ancestors who possess the gift that I have, who can use fire to heal. I must fight for what is rightfully mine, what is rightfully my son's! I will never know what it was like to be a true dragon because I was raised as a bastard - forced into hiding because those whom my grandfather trusted had betrayed him. And those people belong to that of House Lannister," she demanded as she watched his chest puff out in defense. "This is not why I came here to speak with you."

"I'm sure it's not," he gritted through his teeth.

"You forget that I am Queen," she stated.

The Kingslayer cleared his throat before sitting straighter and looking over at her - giving her his full attention.

"After I relayed the news of your brother's matrimony, I had hoped that we could discuss my brother," Rhaenys said with a slight nervousness in her voice. She wasn't certain what she would hear from the Kingslayer about her parent's. But he and Ser Barristan were possibly the only ones who would give her an honest report. "I would like to make him King."

Jamie leaned back against his chair this time, relaxing his posture. "I thought you're wed to the King."

"Of the North and of the Trident," Rhaenys corrected. "My brother - Rhaegon Targaryen - is the rightful King of all of Westeros," she smiled.

"You'll find the people aren't as forgiving. Your father and Lyanna Stark started a war - allowed it to happen. If she had simply come out and said that she was having the Prince's bastard, then all would have been well."

"I cannot know what happened between my father and Lyanna Stark. All that I know is what has been told to me. And apparently, I was not told the entire truth," she paused and met his gaze. "I want to know, though."

The misshaped knight studied her, the doubt evident on his face. Did he think that she would not be able to grasp the truth, to understand her parent's motivations? Did he believe that she would be hurt to discover that her father had never truly loved her mother? She did her best not to think on the matter - on both of those matters. After a moment, the Kingslayer sighed and nodded his head - confirming that he would indulge her.

"Your father respected your mother, adored her - thought her sweet and kind. You must understand that your father had two sides to him - one that loved the people, that was nurturing and compassionate. He was drawn to your mother's sweet-temper."

"And let me guess," she smiled - though it wasn't a happy one. "The other side of him was drawn to Lyanna Stark's wild, northern temper."

"Ser Barristan would know more of what was in your father's heart." She looked up at the Kingslayer. "Prince Rhaegar often confided in Ser Barristan. The Sword of Morning was his best friend - but he has since passed. The White Bull and Prince Lewyn were often your mother's confidants." Jamie smiled then. "Ser Oswell would be proud of you," he noted, "to know that you took his old castle and restored it to House Whent."

"It belongs to House Frey now."

He tilted his head back and forth. "The young Lord's mother is a Whent. And his name is Oswell - named after the former Kingsguard. They were good men - every one of them," he smiled. "Though they never said it out loud - I know that they couldn't wait for your father to take the throne. He would have been a great King."

Rhaenys turned away and looked at Sheira before closing her eyes. It did hurt a little to hear about the possibility of her father's reign.

"Your father believed Aegon to be the Prince that was Promised," he continued. "The day he was born - was momentous indeed. But the day that you were born," he paused, "every fire in the Red Keep burned bright before it went dark. It frightened me, frightened many of the guards. But your father - pushed past everyone - and entered the birthing chamber. And he said that your brother may have been the Prince that was Promised - the reason why he named him Aegon. You," he smiled at Rhaenys, "you were going to help your brother - just as Queen Rhaenys had done with Aegon the Conqueror. You were meant to do remarkable things, my Queen."

"Do you believe it," she asked.

"You survived this long," he added with a smile.

"I survived this long because of House Stark."

"Now you know why the honorable Ned Stark allowed people to believe that you were the bastard daughter of someone in the North. And Jon," he tutted, "everyone thinks he's a bastard also. But a bastard he is not, a slight technicality I'm sure. Your father wed Lyanna - in the cover of night."

"I was there."

All three of them at the table turned to see Ser Barristan approach.

"You were there," Ser Barristan nodded to her. "Your mother was there." Rhaenys must have displayed shock on her face because Ser Barristan began to explain. "He and your mother had argued the night before the tourney at Harrenhal. You were just born," he smiled as she felt her face flush with all sorts of emotions. "Ser Jamie is right. Your father adored your mother. He never meant to hurt her. And he commanded that Aegon would be King and you would be his Queen. But he couldn't leave a son behind. Rhaegar assured Elia that Rhaegon wouldn't take her son's place. And Lyanna wouldn't replace your mother. But Rhaegar was compassionate and saw to it that they would be cared for. That his mistake would be cleared."

Rhaenys stood up then - feeling angry and frustrated. "Rhaegon is not a mistake. Don't you..."

"The actions that led to Rhaegon's birth - in your father's mind - was a mistake," Ser Barristan stated as she shook her head and looked away.

Rhaenys thought then about her mother. Remembering that Robb had - at one time - preferred another woman's company over her own, had made her feel pain in her heart. She had not pictured her marriage like that. She believed with all her heart that Torrhen would be faithful to her. And she had begun to hate Robb for it. She had unknowingly pushed Robb away - she didn't admit it until it was too late, until he was whispering and smiling with Jeyne Westerling.

She shook her head and looked up the old knight "I knew that there were those who wed for advantage. But Lord Stark had raised me to believe that I would wed for love." Ser Barristan smiled kindly at her. "I always thought that my father and mother were the same," she wiped her face.

"Your mother was hurt by your father's actions, my Queen. But at the same time, she didn't loath Lyanna Stark. I know it's difficult to grasp. But your mother was forgiving of your father's indiscretion. After your brother's birth, I'm sure that an announcement would have been made - declaring him a Prince and Lyanna Stark a Princess." Ser Barristan stepped closer to her. "Your father loved your mother, Rhaenys. Perhaps not at first - but he did come to love her. He also came to love Lyanna Stark. I have never loved before, so I cannot explain it. But I heard that it was possible - to love two people."

Rhaenys shook her head and looked to Ser Jamie.

"If anyone knew that you were the daughter of Prince Rhaegar, you wouldn't have lived long as you did, your brother wouldn't have lived long as he has. Robert would have seen to that."

"Before any Lannister, I'm sure," Sheira commented.

Rhaenys was reminded of why she was here. She turned back to Ser Jamie. "You are the only villain alive, Ser." She took in his shocked expression. "King Robert is dead, so I cannot judge him for his crimes against my family. The Mountain is dead. Ser Amory Lorch is dead. There is only House Lannister left. There is only you."

"And what is it that you want me to do," he questioned.

"I've heard that your father hasn't named an heir for Casterly Rock, yet," Rhaenys smiled - this time with a mischievous expression upon her face.

* * *

"Where is Daisy," Harrion questioned. Actually, he didn't care where the young kitchen maid had disappeared to. Harrion missed the way Leila blushed innocently at a comment he'd make, the dreamy look in her eyes when she looked off into the distance, and the outspoken nature of her sharp tongue. He wouldn't admit it - out loud - but he was glad that Leila had walked into the room.

Of course, he also couldn't stop himself from goading her.

"Daisy said she was going to massage my neck," he tilted his head back and forth. "It is rather stiff."

He noticed the way Leila narrowed her eyes before muttering something as she walked towards the hearth. "I'm sure it is," she said loudly before grabbing a piece of cloth.

Was she jealous, he thought.

"If you must know, Daisy has been sent somewhere else."

She is jealous, he decided. Good.

Before he could comprehend what she was doing, Leila returned to his side, placing the heated cloth onto his shoulder. He winced slightly before groaning in delight. "The heat will help to relax the tension in your shoulders, therefore easing the stiffness in your neck," she explained as he felt her soft hands glide over his bare back. He closed his eyes, reveling in her proximity and caresses.

The pair remained silent as she tended to him. Neither wanted to interrupt the comfort of being in one's presence.

* * *

Tyrion Lannister watched as Sansa sat beneath the tent with his cousins - Lya and Lorena were present with her. He immediately remembered seeing her lift her head courageously and walk away from the throne room - vowing her love for Joffrey, seeing her speak to Cersei with hidden comments that had to be read between the lines - _she just may survive us yet_.

She was young - but hardly naive any longer. She kept Lya and Lorena closer now since his father had revealed that little detail. She praised them with pretty comments and pleasant courtesies. Cersei called her a little dove. But she was growing. And dare he say it, but she was obtaining a little lioness to her personality. He smirked and looked away. Tyrion was certain that Sansa would call it being a wolf.

Wolves were honorable and loyal, Tyrion though. Lions were cunning and powerful. Somewhere in the Riverlands - he turned to look in that direction - a dragon was breathing fire and taking blood. Though he had only conversed with the girl a few times, he'd like to think that young Queen had a rational head about her shoulders - at least more so than his own sister.

"My Lord husband." Tyrion turned back to see Sansa kindly smiling at him, while his cousins blushed and looked away. "Would you care to join us?"

He cleared his throat and turned to see a few guards looking at him cautiously.

"You are out in the sun, my husband," Sansa urged again. "Come inside," she held up her hand.

She was still young - so very young, Tyrion thought.

But her sixteenth name-day had just passed, surely, she had grown some. And she had. Her eyes were sultry - a deep blue that a man could drown in. And her skin was so smooth, her curves so soft - a warrior would surrender to her prowess. Oh yes, Sansa Stark would be able play the game well. She'd do it subtly and quietly. You wouldn't even know she was there until she attacked.

"My husband seems to be in shock," Sansa smiled as his two cousins held back their giggles.

Tyrion cleared his throat again and walked up slowly towards her. Taking her hand in his he bowed to bestow a soft kiss upon her knuckles - ignoring the thrill of feeling something so delicate in his hands. "Forgive me, my Lady wife," he stood straight and smiled, "I was merely pondering the implications of meeting your brother. The last I conversed with the King of the North..."

"And of the Trident," Lya - the younger one - added, which to Tyrion's amusement received a nod of approval from Sansa.

"Yes," Tyrion answered and nodded toward them both. "The last meeting that I had with him was rather tense. Your brother Bran had just awakened," he looked at Sansa - sensing her emotions show through, the soft adoration she held for her brothers before she covered it up. "Your mother had already left Winterfell and headed south."

Sansa smiled before smoothing out her dress. "For a while you were in my mother's company, were you not, my Lord husband?"

"I was," Tyrion nodded. "And I have to say that she truly is a beauty," he winked at his cousin who giggled, "and she has all the honor and duty of House Tully and," he paused as Sansa poured him a small cup of wine, "thank you."

She nodded at him as he moved to stand be her side.

"She held a sense of perseverance and loyalty - one that I'm sure any wolf from the North would display," he bestowed praise upon Sansa's House before taking her hand in his. "I am both saddened and joyous about the false alarm," he said as his two cousins gasped.

It was obvious that they truly believed she had been with child. Now that they were on their way to Casterly Rock, Tyrion and Sansa had agreed that they could reveal the truth. His father would never make them return - not with them so far from the Capitol.

"I am saddened as well," Sansa feigned grief as her hand touched her stomach. "But why are you joyous, my lord?"

"Because I'm certain that our child will have all the beauty, honor and loyalty from its mother," he added as he placed his hand on hers over her stomach, "when the time is right."

Sansa leaned forward - surprisingly him - and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. Pulling back, he admired the blush on her cheek before she turned her attention back to Lorena. Tyrion followed suit this time as they changed the subject matter. Meeting the Young Wolf weighed heavily on his mind, but he was also confident that he may just make it out alive.

* * *

Rhaenys smiled brightly as her son cooed in her arms. Catelyn held a serene smile on her lips, watching them. Her grandson was turning to look more like a Stark as the days passed. She sighed then, thinking of how Robb was so much like his father. He was missing this. Ned had missed this with Robb.

"Lady Catelyn," Rhaenys caught her attention as she wrapped the babe tighter with the cloths before thanking Marissa and Sheira for their assistance. "Would you like to hold him while I change my gown?"

Alyx and Merianne stood then to assist the Queen as Catelyn held out her arms for her grandson. He looked so much like Ned - perhaps a touch of Brandon was there also. Overall, he looked like a Stark. Certainly, the young Prince would need a name - a strong Northern name. Rhaenys wanted to wait until Robb returned. But much time could pass before then.

The babe's eyes opened and smiled at his grandmother, warming Catelyn's heart. His eyes changed the shade of grey when he smiled - she noted that it was the same as Ned. She moved her thumb to rub against the babe's chin as he began to stir and kick out from his confinement. When she touched his tiny foot and did the same as her husband had done with Robb, the babe began to coo and smile.

She looked at the babe's eyes noticing the same foggy shade as her husband and immediately began to feel tears fill her eyes.

 _"You may look like a Tully but inside you are all Stark," Ned commented._

"Ned," she sobbed softly as she held the babe tight to her chest. He was missing this, too. This babe was a Stark - there was no doubt about it. He had the same ticklish spot that all Stark children had. He could calm down the same way Ned would calm the children when they were babes, when Robb was crying, when Rickon was hurt or when Bran couldn't go outside of the Keep. Ned knew how to handle them when they got too 'wolfish' for her. And her grandson would have adored his grandfather - she was sure of it.

Could she do it alone?

Could she help this babe to become a wonderful Northern Lord - or King - just as her husband was? Just as her husband would?

 _"I think he loves the girl," Ned observed._

 _"They are too young to think of love."_

 _"Look how he follows her about, watches her and turns into a nervous gelding whenever she comes too close," he clicked his tongue. "I told you that there would be trouble with those two."_

 _Catelyn turned to him and playfully pushed at his shoulder. "I believe I was the one who informed you of that, husband."_

 _"Oh, were you," he smiled, his eyes turning into that cloudy grey, the shade that would storm over his eyes with passion and desire for her._

 _Catelyn shrieked as he began to chase her down the halls until they found themselves in the stables. He had wrapped his arms around her middle, tackling her down into the large pile of straw. They both laughed and wrestled gently before she allowed him to press a kiss to her lips. All talk of their son and the hidden dragon was forgotten._

She felt her heart break slowly, thinking of Ned and how she would love to tell him that she was right - they were both right. Robb had grown to love Rhaenys, whether it was by her and Ned's design or something fated among House Targaryen and House Stark - she didn't know. But she was certain that they would be talking of it right now, observing their children and sharing in secrets and smiles with one another.

"Oh Ned," she touched the babe's face and cried as his eyes reflected his grandfather's - a grandfather that he would never know, a grandfather that could never hold him, train him and love him.

"Little Ned," Rhaenys said as Catelyn's head snapped up.

Marissa and Merianne quickly went to her side to help her wipe her tears and check if the babe was okay. Catelyn smiled at the small bundle in her arms as they stepped back. "He just," she paused, "he reminds me so much of Ned."

"Then that's what we'll name him," Rhaenys decided.

She looked back at her daughter-by-law. "But, I thought you..."

"Wanted to wait for Robb, yes," she nodded and looked away with a smile. "But who better to name the young Prince, then his only remaining grandparent - his grandmother who helped raise both his father and mother," Rhaenys moved to sit beside her as she ran a hand over her son's head.

"I look at him and I see Ned," Catelyn said as she heard Lady Sheira Blackwood usher the younger women out. "He is a Stark, Nysa. And I know that he'll be just as honorable, loyal and just as Ned had been."

"Prince Eddard Stark," Rhaenys stated, "our little Ned."

Catelyn sobbed joyfully as she and Rhaenys embraced - the babe between them cooing quietly. It was as if Ned was still here with her - with all of them. The name fit, and she was so grateful for everything.

* * *

They had talked every night, sat out on the balcony - Leila wrapped tightly in furs as she leaned against Harrion. Oh, they still argued every now and then. She found that she enjoyed speaking with him. He was different, treated her differently.

This night, he revealed his greatest fears and concerns to her. And she found that her heart went out to him - this man that she had been tending to.

"Your father would be proud of you," Leila touched his arm.

Harrion sighed and pressed his bearded cheek into her hair. "I want to finish what he started but at the same time, I want to go North and be with my mother and sister. Karhold needs me."

"And Karhold will be fortunate to have you," she commented as she felt him smile against her.

"And you, what do you want," he asked.

Leila sighed and buried herself further into Harrion. "I can tell you what I don't want," she laughed lightly. "I certainly could do without being here in Casterly Rock - the place that every person desires because they think it holds so much power, the place where everyone in the Westerlands turns to for approval. No one wants to garner Lord Tywin's disapproval," she spat out sarcastically before sitting up.

She gazed out at Lannisport and saw the ships at the dock.

"I want to get away. I want to be my own person. I want," she paused and shook her head. "I want something I can't have."

Harrion touched her arm and when she turned to look at him, she saw something she had wanted to see for all the years of her life - acceptance. "I want something I can't have, either."

"What is it," she whispered.

He leaned forward, caressing her face before wrapping his hand possessively around her neck and bringing her in for a kiss.

* * *

Lord Tywin Lannister nodded to the men after commanding them to travel through the river bend where the waters had lowered. This was the perfect spot where they could move through the Riverlands without being detected. Of course, a small group of men - numbering twenty or so - had been easily dispatched and hardly caused a scene. Now they had armor from House Frey. With that they could come and go - not only into Harrenhal but also into the Twins.

Ser Rolph Spicer glanced back at the castle.

"Do not worry, we will leave your niece once Lord Oswell Frey bends the knee," Tywin stated. "What I want lies at the Twins."

"Are you certain that she isn't heavily guarded," Ser Kevan questioned Ser Rolph.

"They have women guarding the young Queen. They should be easily dealt with."

"If it was so easy then one must question, why you didn't do it yourself," Lord Prester questioned.

"Perhaps the same reason why you and Ser Loren abandoned House Prester," Tywin clicked his tongue to stop the men's bickering. He turned his horse and watched all of his Lords raise their eyes towards him. "Remember that we attack swiftly and quietly. Do not underestimate them - whether they are women or not," he eyed Ser Rolph with disdain.

In truth, he didn't enjoy the presence of the sniveling knight.

"A woman killed Clegane," Tywin reminded him before turning his attention to his brother. "Kill whomever you come across but leave the dragon for me."

* * *

Robb was growing anxious - everyone could see it. They had received word that Tywin was sending Sansa to Casterly Rock. The message had also said that Sansa could never leave it and soon they were going to find out why. Robb didn't like this. He didn't like being told to stay put. The others from the North heartily teased his impatient pacing about - as though he truly were a young Wolf, waiting to attack something.

The truth of the matter was that he had wanted to speak to Nysa, wanted to see her, hold her. Robb also desired to look down at his son, admire his child - watch him smile, grow, laugh. He was missing many of the first moons if he stayed here and waited for Tywin Lannister to slowly deliver his sister.

"My King," Ser Perwyn bowed before continuing to walk towards him.

Robb nodded as the knight came to stand beside him. "You have news, Ser?"

"We've found the boy."

Robb turned to look at him.

"Ser Daron's son," Perwyn reminded him as he turned his head to look down into the yard.

A young lad - possibly Bran's age - tugged his arm away from one of the guards. He held a sort of confidence about him. Oh yes, Robb thought, he was a Lannister alright. He was waiting for the young woman who had been tending to Harrion Karstark to reveal her true identity also. He allowed them to all believe that he had every Lannister in the prison cells. But Robb knew that there were still a few lingering about the castle.

Robb walked down towards them. Grey Wind had trotted towards the young boy. He watched as the young Lannister faltered slightly. It was the same response that quite a few Lannister's had when they had seen the direwolf - arrogant at first, but quickly humbled in the presence of such a creature.

The young boy took a couple steps back before the guard with him, placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small shove. He stumbled forward before righting himself again. Grey Wind sat down and looked at the boy intently - studying him as Robb approached. The boy glanced at Robb but kept his wary eyes on the direwolf.

"He will not eat you." The boy turned to Robb. "He's already been fed," Robb smiled as a few guards around him chuckled.

"Just do it," the boy dropped to his knees. "Burn me!"

A few others continued to chuckle as Greatjon Umber came and stood next to Robb. "No one is going to burn you, lad," Greatjon stated.

"That's what the man said!"

Robb glanced around at the men. "I'm not certain what any of my men here have you told you, but we do not burn people." He paused and smiled at all of them. "We leave that to the Queen." More laughter rose up into the yard, but the boy continued to look frightened. "What is your name, boy?"

"Darion, your Grace - Darion Lannister," his eyes filled with tears as he looked around in fear.

Kneeling in front of Darion, Robb placed a hand on his shoulder. "No one is going to harm you, young Lannister. I just need to know what happened to your mother and sister." Darion continued to look at everyone. "Darion," Robb got his attention. "I need to know who harmed your kin. And I give you my word that no one will cause you injury should you tell me the truth." The boy shook his head and began to look about again. "Is he here, Darion?"

"He said he would come back for me if I told anyone."

Robb nodded. "He's not coming back."

"You're lying," Darion pulled away. Grey Wind sat up, his tail swishing back and forth in anticipation of an attack. Robb placed a hand up to calm Grey Wind before turning back to the boy.

"You have my word, Darion. I know it might not mean anything to you, but it means a lot to me." He watched as Darion looked around cautiously. "Tell me," Robb commanded as the young boy's shoulders sagged.

He looked down at the ground and mumbled the sigil of the House.

* * *

Harrion slowly took off her gown from her shoulder, running his rough hands on her side. Leila felt his lips press against the base of her throat. She felt so wanton. This was certainly something that her mother wouldn't approve of, something that if any of her kin discovered would have profusely denied.

No, not with a Northern Lord - the very men who had attacked her home, held her brothers and nephews as prisoners. Her mind was becoming clearer. But the moment that Harrion bit lightly on her shoulder and gripped onto her waist, her mind was cloudy again - filled with inappropriate thoughts of all the pleasure that this man could bring to her.

Leila moaned delightfully, causing Harrion to growl and move their bodies. Now she was under him. She smiled wickedly up at this man who she loved to hate and hated to love.

He was going to take her. And she was willingly going to let him.

* * *

Osric and Jon were watching Bran, Rickon, Beth and the other children play in the woods near Winterfell. The days were getting cooler, but also brighter - in a cheerful sort of way. Someone had told Jon at the stables that it appeared Winterfell was returning to its old self. He simply smiled and nodded. For it to be the same, he knew that he'd want his father to be here. He'd want Bran to be climbing the walls again. He'd want Nysa to be here, teasing him for something - or getting them both into trouble. He'd want Robb and Arya and yes - maybe even prim and proper Sansa to be back home again. Things would never return to their 'old self'.

Suddenly, a movement caught Ghost's attention. The direwolf took off before Jon could stop him, Shaggydog and Summer fast on his heels. Osric withdrew his sword as the children hurried towards Jon's side. It was obvious that they could sense the change in the air, the shift in the woods, the tension of the wolves' disappearance.

Rickon showed a slight fearful look as he looked up at Jon. Jon patted his brother's shoulder as Meera Reed climbed out from her hiding spot, spear pointing forward as she crawled towards the woods where the wolves had taken off. The way she moved was almost animal-like. Jon could understand why they whispered about the craggonmen being part beast. The way Meera hunted and stalked was as if she were one.

"Get my brothers back to the Keep," Jon nudged Rickon to Osric's side as Osric nodded and gestured for all the children to follow him.

Meera turned to Jon as she heard a low growl, studying to see if he was prepared for whatever was coming out. Jon tried to search the darkness of the woods to discern what was out there, but he couldn't. He had finally arrived next to Meera. In the distance, behind them he heard a few guards - possibly Ronnel Woods and the small amount of men that he had.

Just before Meera was ready to charge into the woods, Summer and Shaggydog came walking out. They both turned back behind them and growled softly. Jon looked up and saw a man walking forward, shaking with both of his hands up in surrender. Ghost walking behind him, displaying the same growling snarl. The man walked into the clearing just as Ronnel Woods arrived, all of his men with their bows and swords out, pointed towards the man on the ground.

However, Jon recognized the black attire. "You're from the Wall," Jon noted as Meera looked towards him. "Are you here to take me back?"

"Yes," the man answered, "but not in the way you think."

Slowly the man looked up at Jon, causing Jon's eyes to widen in recognition. "Pyp?"

Pyp glanced at the wolves and immediately Jon called Ghost to him. As if recognizing that Ghost was obeying, Summer and Shaggydog did the same. Shaggydog plumped down on his haunches. Summer looked around before sniffing Meera.

"He's at the Keep," Meera patted his neck before the wolf took off. She was becoming a close companion - that much was obvious to Jon - not only for Bran but also to his direwolf.

"Now," Jon turned back to Pyp who fell to his knees and began to weep.

He mumbled incoherent words and babbled nonsense that no one could understand. Briefly Jon heard someone mention that the 'woods had claimed him'. He had heard that expression before to describe someone who had either gotten lost or someone who had gone crazy from being stuck in the wolfwoods for a long amount of time. Jon highly doubted that Pyp had gone insane.

"Pyp," he tried to urge the other young man to make sense. "Take a deep breath," he calmly displayed what Pyp should do. Pyp attempted to but kept shaking his head. Whatever he had to say was urgent but there was no way that he could grasp it if the man didn't calm down.

Ronnel came over near to them and grabbed Pyp's tunic, lifting him up. "You've obviously come to say something important, but my men aren't going to take you seriously unless you stop this blubbering," Ronnel pushed him back as Pyp nodded eagerly.

Jon looked at his friend then and nodded, signaling him to begin.

"They're coming," Pyp said slowly, fear in his eyes.

"Who's coming," Jon asked, steadying Pyp as the other breathlessly whispered.

"Wildlings," Pyp glanced around at the group with Jon. Meera immediately held up her spear and looked around. Ronnel gestured to someone to scout ahead. "At the Wall," he stated, which made everyone's heads turn back to him. "They're coming, one hundred thousand of em'."


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

"What do you mean they're wed," questioned Robb as he stared at his wife's kin. The woman sighed impatiently and turned to kick her feet up onto the table in front of her. Robb eyed out her boot-clad legs with a bit of disdain. She had rode into Casterly Rock, ordered the men around and walked into the meeting room as though she had conquered the castle.

"I don't know how it could get any simpler than I already stated," she took out a dagger and twirled it around in her hand. "Your sister wed that Imp, Wolf."

"It's _Your Grace_ to you," Lord Glover grabbed her boot and threw it off the table. "And sit properly."

"Show a little decorum when you're in front of your King, my Lady," Ser Perwyn added to ease the tension.

Robb sighed and motioned for her to continue. He knew that the men didn't feel comfortable around those of House Martell - especially since they had entered the Twins with little less than a scratch on them. It was also well known that Prince Oberyn and his daughters were less than tactful when stating their mind or opinions on things.

"We received a visitor - a whore to be precise," she said before glancing around the room, "forgive my choice of words." Robb didn't miss how she rolled her eyes before turning to look back at him across the table. "She worked for Petyr Baelish."

At the mention of Baelish, half the room erupted into chaos.

"Now hold on, let the Lady finish," she held up her hand and smiled as they calmed. "As I was saying this woman worked for Petyr Baelish in profession. But as of recent, she has been spying for Lord Varys - a member of the Small Council," she added as Robb narrowed his eyes. "Both men, your wife does not trust. And therefore she almost sent the wench back to the Capital," the Sand waved her hand dismissively. "That was until the woman gave your wife a letter - a letter from your sister - explaining that by the time we receive it, she would have been wed to Lord Tyrion Lannister."

"And Lord Tywin is sending Sansa here," Greatjon turned to Robb.

"He stated she could not leave," Lady Dacey reminded him.

"And now we know why," Jory faced him. "If they've been wed for some time, it could be possible that your sister may very well be carrying a Lannister hei..."

Robb stood up causing everyone to stop. "I can still take my sister back - wed or not, with child or not!"

Obarra Sand smiled and went to stand as well. She leaned her hands on the table, staring him down. "Your wife has also given me a decree naming Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa, Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West. And in return for Tyrion's life - this is the part where you do not make your sister a widow at such an early part of her marriage - and all the titles that come with it, he will bend the knee for House Lannister and all those in the Westerlands."

A few of the Lords and guards in them were taken aback briefly before glancing towards their King.

He shook his head and looked down at the table. Had Nysa concocted this plan while she was at the Twins?

"Rhaenys believes that with Sansa here and with a Lannister being the Lord of Casterly Rock, it might make for a more willing and submissive crowd when she names her brother, Rhaegon Targaryen, as the King of the four or three reminaing Kingdoms," Obarra pushed back.

"A bold move but also dangerous," Greatjon nodded.

"Your wife is slowly becoming aware of the politics that it will take to defeat Tywin and Cersei. I don't know if you know this, _your Grace_ ," she added while winking at Lord Glover next to her who blinked in response before turning away. "You will reclaim the North - your men are well on their way there. That much is certain. Traitors will be snuffed out and dealt with. You have men from the Riverlands, Houses from the Westerlands are slowly bending the knee - one by one they're falling. You have the support of House Martell with you also," she gave a showy bow in his direction before turning to look out the window. "But you'll need to have control of all of Westeros. Your son, your son's sons," she emphasized as she stuck her hand outside and let the sunlight dance on the dagger in her palm. "They'll never know peace until the Lion has been declawed."

* * *

"My Queen," Smalljon burst into the room, followed by Lyra and Tyta. "An army approaches."

"From the South," Lady Catelyn calmly stood up, trying to keep her demeanor serene in the hopes to placate Nysa and the other young women in the room.

"Yes, my Lady," Smalljon nodded. "I have readied horses for all of you."

Gods! Robb was right, Nysa thought. If something was to happen, he said that Smalljon was under strict orders to get her, Lady Catelyn and Arya out of there and safely back to the North. But what about everyone else? She couldn't abandon the women in this castle to be subjected to whatever cruelty awaited them. And what if it wasn't cruelty? What if this was another Martell army or someone from the Riverlands?

"Wait," Nysa commanded as she handed the little Prince to Marissa. "Whose banners do they have?"

"Lannister, my Queen," Lyra replied, out of breath. "They'll surround the Twins by sunrise."

"Only the Southern gates," Tyta stepped forward. "It would be best if you escape through the Northern tunnels now. The sun is setting as we speak."

"Under the cover of darkness, they won't see you," Lyra reminded her.

She gripped her chest and turned to look at her son. What about Oswell and Jeyne at Harrenhal? How did a Lannister army get past them? And more importantly where was there support from the other Riverland Houses? Surely, House Tully wouldn't have left her abandoned. Was this their plan all along? She had just sent her cousin with a small army to Casterly Rock to inform Robb of Sansa's questionable circumstances.

Seven Hells! Robb was in Casterly Rock with an army. And she had House Martell here with her. It wasn't enough. And somehow Tywin Lannister had played it well. Send Sansa to Casterly Rock to distract the King, while the Queen was unguarded back at the Twins. They weren't going to survive this time.

"I still do not understand why we are speaking of this," Smalljon marched forward and grabbed Marissa's arm roughly, pulling her forward. "Let's go! Move," he shouted.

* * *

Harrion played with the ends of her hair. Leila smiled against his chest, tracing her hand against the scarred wound that was afflicted on him nearly a moon or two ago. He wasn't handsome as Ser Jamie. But she adored the brown locks on his head, was pleased with his devilish smirk, his deep laughter, dark eyes and rugged physique. While her cousins and brothers were knights and men who danced during feasts, Harrion was a soldier - a man who would do all of his dancing on the battlefield and later with her wrapped in the furs.

"What are you thinking," he moved, pressing his lips into her hair.

The muscles and movement reminding her that this was indeed a man, not some pompous knight. She smiled again and lifted her head up look up at him. "You," she whispered.

"I sure hope so," his hand moved to caress her breast. "Or else that means I'm doing something wrong," he growled as she squirmed pleasantly out of his hold.

"Maybe you are." Leila moved to sit up, carefully to pull the sheets with her. Unfortunately, Harrion was quick.

He gripped onto the sheet, "What did you say, my fair lady? You want me to get rid of these sheets and have you stay in my room naked?"

"You wouldn't dare," she narrowed her eyes, but Harrion could see that she was playing with him.

A small tugging on her end and a playful smile on his end, and the next thing Leila knew, she was under Harrion as they wrestled playfully on the featherbed. She had never felt so alive, so dangerous, so cherished. Harrion didn't see her name, her House. All that he saw was her.

He just leaned down to brush his lips against hers when the door slammed open.

How embarrassing!

Leila pushed at his shoulder and moved to try and cover herself, but Harrion on the other hand remained still as he looked over at their intruder. Before anything could be said, she noticed that someone appeared right above them. She lifted her head to see the King of the North.

"I am glad to see that you are well, Lord Karstark."

"Lord," Leila mumbled in shock. She had forgot that Harrion was of noble birth, forgot that they were on two sides of the war, forgot that... She looked up as he glanced down at her. "Forgive me, my Lord."

Harrion didn't like the tone of her voice, it changed. It felt more reserved, more quiet. She quickly took her discarded undergarments and gown and hurried out before he could stop her. He watched her with a careful eye, knowing that his King was watching him also. He wasn't sure what he was experiencing with the young woman, but he never wanted it to end.

"She's a Lannister," the young Wolf smiled.

"How do you know," Harrion asked, although a part of him already knew her birth and circumstance.

"Because of how the servants look at her. I am trying to decipher whose daughter or sister she is."

"And you've discovered nothing as of yet," Harrion pushed away from the bed, climbing to his feet as he dressed himself. The King slowly walked around the room until he was out on the same balcony that he and Leila had been sitting at a couple days ago.

"My sister, Sansa. I had hoped to give her hand to you when she was returned to Casterly Rock."

Harrion tugged on his breeches before glancing at the King in surprise. Sansa Stark wasn't a maiden to easily throw here and there. She was a Lady, a Lady from a great House - and his King's sister. She would be highly prized as a bride. But instead of feeling honored that the King would give his sister to him, he felt a tightening deep in his gut. How would this affect Leila? And what in gods name was the reason for the sudden thoughts of Leila?

"Lord Tywin, however, has seem to have played a game on me," the King continued. "He has wed my sister to the Imp."

"He wouldn't," Harrion growled.

"He has," the King nodded and turned to glance at Harrion before looking back out over Casterly Rock's grounds. "She is Lady Sansa Lannister now, it would seem. And Nysa, forgive me, Queen Rhaenys," the King said with a smile, "has declared her the Lady of Casterly Rock. So, my intention of bringing my sister back to the North is now null and void. And you are free to wed whom you please."

"The Lannister whore and I were just having some fun," Harrion tried to clarify. Again, the tightening in his gut for calling Leila such a derogatory term. She was a Lady, she was beautiful and smart and charming and witty and vivacious and...

"Is that all that she is to you?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"Is you wish to wed her, then..."

"I barely even remember her name."

"There is no need to lie."

"What concern is it to you, my King, who shares my bed?"

Robb Stark chuckled before turning to Harrion, a serious expression on his face. "Other than Jory Cassel, you are the only other person here whom my wife cherishes as a brother, as her family. Not Prince Oberyn Martell or his daughters - who are deceiving little things," he mumbled the last part. "She has the Ladies whom she keeps close, most of it I believe is for companionship and advice. But you," Robb stepped closer, "she would want to see safe, want to see happy."

A tortured look took over the King's face and Harrion could only assume that the King was thinking of his Queen's love for Torrhen. He remembered watching her scream insults at him at Harrenhal, declaring her love for Torrhen. Nysa had told Harrion that she still thinks of Torrhen. Oh, she has love for her King. But it never erased his brother from her heart and that must be something that the King was thinking of now.

"My King, you ought to not trouble yourself with the past," Harrion began. "The Queen loves you very much."

"I know she does," his lips twitched into a smile and he nodded. "But she has often argued about House Karstark's worth - not only in the North but to House Stark as well. She got me to confess that I slighted your father because of Torrhen."

Harrion had to smile, because it sounded like something Nysa would do.

"She also reminded me that it was House Kartstark that came to my aid, you were one of the first ones to lay down your sword and declare me your King."

"And House Karstark will always be loyal to its King and the North," Harrion gave a slight bow.

"I'm sure of that," the King agreed with a nod. "I'm also sure that the Queen has thought much of how to reward your loyalty to me, to her," Robb clarified, knowing that much of House Karstark followed Nysa more than they followed him. "Harrion, at one time, you would have become her brother by law. My father wrote a letter giving her Greenhall - or any holdfast of her choosing - when she was to wed Torrhen. They were waiting for Prince Doran's approval. And I have no doubt in my mind that Nysa would have chosen him over any other Lord or Knight that her Uncle would have offered from the South. You are the only thing she has to remind her of him. And the prize of wedding the King's sister wouldn't have been enough to repay you."

"I would have been honored to accept her hand," Harrion bowed.

"But since that has been taken out of the equation," the King shook his head before glancing back at Harrion. "I think my Queen will agree when she says that you should be allowed any bride of your choosing. I would annul my sister's marriage if given the chance, but with her being the Lady of Casterly Rock..."

"You would have claim of this castle," Harrion nodded, knowing his King's intentions.

"Therefore, I will say this," Robb stepped close and glanced at the door quickly. "If you want to wed the Lannister girl, you may."

"She's a lion," Harrion gritted his teeth. "My House will never accept her."

"Is that the only thing you fear," Robb asked. "Because I'm quite sure that the Queen will support you."

"A part of me fears her thoughts as well," he admitted. "And not only that, I'm not completely certain that I want to make Leila my wife, the Lady of Karhold," he said as Robb smiled. Harrion shook his head. "And yes, I know her name," he growled before turning away.

Harrion liked Leila, liked her enough to keep company with her. It was easy to forget that she was a Lannister when she would kiss him with such passion and whisper his name in the dark. And a part of him would argue that he should be rewarded what was due to him, that House Karstark should be repaid in kind for defending their Queen, demand that the Princess Stark be made his bride. But he didn't want Sansa Stark. A prize she most certainly was, but not to him - not to the man.

"I can see that there is much to think of," Robb acknowledged. "I came to inform you that my sister comes and if you desire it, I can - and have the power - to annul the marriage. My wife may desire Casterly Rock's fealty, but there are other ways to declaw the lion. And if you don't want my sister, it does not mean that you must take the Lannister."

"I don't even know if she would have me," Harrion looked down. "I fight against her House. At one time I would have taken a sword to her, Lady or not."

"And now," the King asked.

And now, Harrion wasn't so sure, he wanted to answer. His fist clenched before releasing. A Lannister killed his brother. And that same Lannister was at the Twins, with a missing hand and walking with a limp. The Queen had been right. Death was too easy a punishment. When his father wanted to murder those Lannister boys, she shouted that their deaths wouldn't bring Torrhen back. They were just to hurt to admit it.

Killing the Kingslayer wouldn't bring Torrhen back, wouldn't have put Rhaenys Targaryen in Torrhen's arms with a Karstark as heir to the Iron Throne. No, killing the Kingslayer would only serve one purpose - another dead Lannister. And at the time, he and Robb Stark would have been content to fill all of Westeros with slain Lannister. Watching the Kingslayer limp around and cuddle his arm close to his body, wincing with every movement made Harrion smile. The Kingslayer would suffer the same way he and Nysa would have to suffer for the loss of Torrhen.

House Bolton, however, would receive their just punishment. Lord Bolton would die for committing such an act. He conspired to murder the Queen and her unborn child - a child that at one time might have been Torrhen's. He murdered his father for choosing to defend the Queen, for staying loyal to the King and House Stark. The Lady Bolton could live, know the pain of being a widow - the same pain his mother now faced.

But Leila?

"Right now," Harrion sighed, "I like the Lady enough to spend time with her. But to make her my Lady, Lady of Karhold," Harrion shook his head. "It would take a lot of forgiveness on my part and I don't know if I have that in me."

"War often blinds us to the other duties we have in our life. You are more than just a soldier fighting for the North, you are Lord of Karhold now. It's another reason why I thought to discuss the matter with you in private before my sister comes, before I make a final decision."

Harrion nodded. It was all he could do.

"I will leave the decision up to you, Harrion. If you choose my sister as your prize, then so be it. She would gladly come back home to the North. At the same time, I know Prince Oberyn would throw a fit. He really wanted her for Prince Quentyn Martell. But your loyalty should be rewarded first. The North Remembers," Robb Stark stated. "And if you should choose the Lannister, then I'll support your decision."

He stepped closer and Harrion turned to look at him.

"You best find out where her loyalty lies," he warned.

* * *

Queen Rhaenys Targaryen sat upon her horse, standing right outside the Northern gate of the Twins. She had basically thrown a ball of fire at Smalljon before pulling her horse away to wait at the front of the Twins.

Nymeria Sand at her right and Tyta Frey at her left, while Lyra Mormont had archers at the ready behind her. She had sent Ser Barristan forward to inform whoever was in charge that she wanted to speak with them.

"Negotiate the terms of their surrender," Ser Barristan asked in confusion.

"Yes," she replied and held her head high.

"You have your father's compassion, your mother's kindness, House Martell's coloring," he stated. "But I'm afraid you also have some Targaryen madness in you."

"Excellent," she said without taking her eyes off of the campfires that lit around the Twins, "I'm going to need all the madness I can get right now. I'm about to make a deal with the devil himself."

And so they waited for Ser Barristan's return - for anybody's return. There was also a slim chance that he would be taken prisoner. Ser Barristan knew that when he argued that it should be him, instead of another guard to go and deliver the news. A few of those from the North didn't trust him to go and meet with House Lannister. Rhaenys on the other hand was confident that sending Ser Barristan would get their attention. He supported House Targaryen, supported Lord Stark's desire to place her - or possibly Jon - on the Iron Throne.

"My Queen," Tyta moved on her horse.

Ser Donnel Locke motioned from the trees with Arya, Gendry and Nymeria - the direwolf, and of course a small group of men. On the opposite side, Corgan Blackwood had another group of men. They would close in whomever came to discuss terms.

Rhaenys was shocked when Tyta pointed out Lord Tywin Lannister himself coming through the fields astride his horse and some of his bannermen. She turned to Nymeria Sand who nodded in reply and motioned for Ser Donnel and his group to move forward. Rhaenys walked forward to meet Lord Tywin, glancing over her shoulder at Lyra. An angry Smalljon made his presence known by riding on his horse behind Tyta.

She smiled as he shook his head in disapproval, before kicking her horse into a gallop.

"My Queen Rhaenys," Lord Tywin dipped his head in a short bow as his horse - and only his - came forward to meet her. "You are rather brave to face me out here - alone and unguarded."

"Why is that, my Lord? Are you going to command your knights to sneak into the castle to rape and murder me," she questioned. "Oh wait, you already did that to my mother," she smiled before letting out a laugh. "And I forgot, I already killed those two knights."

His smile only became more pronounced. And despite how dark it was, she could see the gleam in the Lion's eye.

"Very bold, my Queen, to speak to me in such a manner."

"I think it is about time that someone has. Which reminds me, forgive me, if you will not be receiving the hospitality of the Twins at this moment," she commented.

"I understand my son is there."

"Perhaps."

Lord Tywin smiled as his horse slowly circled Rhaenys'. She tried not to let it show that she was frightened. Lord Tywin was impressive. She remembered being scared in his presence before. It did no good to show fear then and it would do no good to her now.

"I understand that you've had a son also."

Rhaenys turned her head sharply at him, her eyes narrowing at the mention of her little Ned.

"I will make a trade, a son for a son," Lord Tywin commented.

"You do not have my son to bargain with."

"Oh but I do hold his life at my fingertips."

"And how do you figure that?"

Lord Tywin's horse stopped right in front of Rhaenys. "Because with one snap of my fingers, my men will march forward, destroy the Twins and everyone in it. If I don't, then your son gets to live. But that all depends on you, and of course returning my son to me."

"Your son is on his way to Casterly Rock. And I believe his wife will soon become Lady of Casterly Rock."

"My child," he chuckled. "I've been doing this for far longer than you have. Believe me when I say that I have destroyed your House once before. I will do it again."

"I'd like to see you try," Rhaenys dared him. She felt the flames from where Ser Donnel and Corgan had started in the woods, felt them heat up her veins, her blood and realized that this is what the words of her House meant. "Fire and Blood," she whispered as she closed her eyes and felt the burn spread through her.

When her eyes opened, the flames shot up in the sky and burned brightly, causing Lord Tywin's horse to startle, taking a few trots backwards. The men he had brought with him rushed forward, swords drawn. Rhaenys slowly lifted in the air, her arms outstretched as she felt the tug of the flames and released a screech. She remembered the pain of seeing Lord Karstark die and added that to the grief of never knowing her mother and father, the fear of standing in front of the man who orchestrated her mother and brother's deaths.

* * *

Lyra gasped when seeing the flames light up the sky, giving sight as to how vast the Lannister army was. She pushed away from her post and gestured for the guards to aim to the left.

"Archers at your ready," Lyra lifted her bow as the first wave of guards came through the woods.

Nymeria Sand also turned her horse to the left and cheered the fighters of House Martell forward as they launched towards the Lannister guards.

From the gate, Smalljon and Tyta - along with the guards under their command - trotted forward towards their Queen. Tyta's role was to capture Lord Tywin. Proud that her Queen had entrusted her with such a goal, she smiled as the guards moved to protect their Lord. She always loved a challenge.

* * *

"Prince," Pyp choked a laugh. "And so you've been pardoned from your service at the Wall? I didn't think that could be done."

Jon sighed heavily and looked down at the table. "Apparently the Queen declared it so."

"Queen," Pyp chuckled again, "the same maiden who wrote you love letters."

"They weren't love letters."

"Sure they weren't."

The two of them chuckled before the doors slammed open. A few of the guards jumped at attention when Osric came rushing inside.

"What is it?"

"The young Lord Reed is stating that there is an army approaching from the North and also from the East and the South," Osric answered.

"The same army," Pyp questioned.

Osric shook his head as he turned to pull a man - tied up and beaten. Osric threw the man in front of him and spat on the ground. "Our scouts found him. He's from House Bolton. It seems that they have attack Karhold, Last Hearth and are on their way to Winterfell."

At mention of the other Houses coming under attack, Jon walked over to Osric. "Any word about..."

"No casualties," Osric gritted through his teeth, "at least none of our end. House Bolton, however," he looked down and kicked the man. "They've come for Winterfell, come to finish the job that their Lord has done in the Riverlands."

"Traitors," one of the nearby guards shouted and spat on the ground as well.

"You're a traitor for abandoning your post," the man looked at Jon. "You're no Prince of the North. A true Northerner would have stand his guard at the Wall, would never have left if the North needed him. Your responsibility..."

"Do not talk to me of responsibility, traitor," Jon stated. "My father would have had..."

"Your father fucked your mother of a whore. You're only half Northerner, the other half of you is a bastard. Always has been, always will be."

"He's a Prince now," Osric grabbed his shirt.

"Declared by whom? A traitor to the Iron Throne? A Queen who is a bastard herself?"

"Get him out of here," Jon instructed. "Silence him down in the dungeons. I don't want to hear any more of the filth that spews out of his mouth."

Jon marched outside just as Osric was picking up the man and carrying him off. He looked around to see a few guards - a small scouting party - were patting their horses and catching their breath from riding and fighting - defending the North form traitors and Ironborn. He nodded towards Ronnel Woods as the man dismounted his horse. Ronnel looked warily at the other guards before giving Jon a slight bow.

"You've met our prisoner, my Prince," Ronnel asked.

"Aye," Jon bristled before looking around.

"It's a weak challenge," he shook his head. "We'll put them in their place."

"No, I should be the one to do it."

"Will all due respect, my Prince," one of the guards spoke up, "we are here to serve House Stark, serve our King and Queen, protect the North. And that is why we follow you. We are under your command because they have placed you there. To listen to such speech would mean that we stand with traitors. And we are not the dishonorable sort."

"I need to show House Bolton that I'm not afraid of them," Jon responded. "Bran and Rickon are back," he glanced at the Keep. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. And now there is. I should be out there fighting."

* * *

Lady Catelyn kept her grandson close to her, wrapped tightly as they hid in the guarded room. It wasn't heavily guarded because Catelyn demanded that all the guards protect the Queen. She had a few Ladies and maidens in there with her. They offered up their prayers to the Mother, the Maiden - even the Warrior. She turned her head towards the door as she heard shouts.

The door was locked from the inside and they were given instructions to exit through the waterway should they hear anyone get through the gate.

She always thought that Robb would be the one they would attack. She should have known. They all should have known.

* * *

"Robb," Sansa whispered with a smile as she entered the yard. And despite her soft voice, her joy could be seen from him as he stood at the top of the steps.

She had grown, Robb thought. She looked an awful lot like their mother, beautiful and ever the Lady. She donned a red gown, something that he quite couldn't wrap his mind around at the moment. At least she was here, at least she was safe. He nodded towards Jory next to him as the man disappeared and went to retrieve Sansa's wedding gift.

The night before they had arrived, Harrion had confirmed that he would not be asking for Sansa's hand. Casterly Rock was important to the King and Queen. If Sansa stayed wed to the Imp, she would be Lady of the castle and therefore a trusted ally. Harrion, however, still had not thought of what to do with Leila. She could always reject him, they were after all, on opposite ends of the war. And this was a war, men often lost themselves during war.

Leila was a highborn, a Lannister at that, and therefore should have been treated with respect. Harrion had not thought nothing about her maiden's blood until now. He would split the man in two who dared to take his sister to bed and not wed her in the morning to protect her honor. But what did he care about Leila's honor? She was a Lannister. At least that's what he told himself when she had not made her presence known since Robb had walked in on them.

The Imp was the first to dismount and nodded towards one of the guards that had accompanied them to carry his wife down. Robb saw the little man looking about the yard, taking in the scene of Northern, Riverland and Martell guards scattered about Casterly Rock.

It was a beautiful sight to Robb.

"Brother," Sansa shouted in glee, picking up the bottom of her dress and running forward towards him.

He smiled and opened his arms as she launched herself into them. It wasn't but a second later that she quickly withdrew - the Lady in her always ready to be presentable.

"Forgive me," she said, flushed and breathless. "It is my King now," Sansa added with a curtsy.

"King or not, we are kin, my Lady," he nodded to her. "And there is no need for formality with kin."

Her bottom lip trembled slightly before she threw her arms around his shoulders again. He held his sister close and wish with everything in him that he could take away her pain - the pain she had to go through all alone, when Arya and Nysa had escaped and left her at the hands of Joffrey and Cersei. No one could have known what she had gone through when they made her watch their father's trial, when they had discarded her, cast her aside for House Tyrell. What had his beloved sister gone through? They were by no means close when growing up, but for some reason the time apart had drawn them closer.

"I missed you," Sansa whispered as Robb felt her tears wet his neck. "I missed all of you, even Arya," she said as they both laughed.

Sansa pulled back and Robb took in the sight of his sister's tears. Their mother should have been here. But he couldn't risk it.

"How is she?"

"Arya is her usual self. There is talk of betrothing her to House Martell."

"Prince Quentyn," Sansa seemed surprised and also slightly jealous. But before Robb could comment on the matter, Sansa smiled. "I fear he would not live to his wedding night."

"I fear the same," Robb chuckled. "And therefore all talk of that has been null and void. Although, she does have her eye on a smith."

"House Smyth," Sansa questioned. "I've never heard of..."

"A smith, a blacksmith," Robb clarified for her.

"I'm sure they share a love of swords," she rolled her eyes, causing Robb to laugh. Yes, his sisters may have missed one another, may also love one another. But there were in no way, best of companions. "And what of your Queen," Sansa posed this time. "There is talk at the Capital that she is a..."

"Targaryen," Robb finished as his eyes shifted towards the Imp who slowly made his way to the front as the two siblings reunited with one another. "I wonder what sort of talk there truly is about my Queen."

"Word of her lineage and claim to the Iron Throne, young Wolf," Tyrion Lannister answered. "I believe the last time we met, I was requesting to be shown the hospitality of your home. And now it seems that you're still to show me hospitality. But this time it is my own home."

Robb smirked and nodded. "We are under strict orders from the Queen that not a hair on your head or a nail on your toe is to be harmed."

"Ah, well," Tyrion Lannister smiled, "since it is the Queen who offers her hospitality then I will accept."

Robb narrowed his eyes at Tyrion before turning towards Sansa. "If you wish for me to annul this marriage, if you are not with child then..."

"I am not with child," Sansa blushed and looked down at her feet.

"Forgive me, sister, for being too forward and in such company as my Lords," he looked to Harrion Karstark and a few others who stood beside him, eyeing Tyrion Lannister with contempt.

"Nonsense," she linked her arm with Robb's and then turned to Tyrion, a pained look on his brow. Did Robb truly mean it? With his word, could she be free of House Lannister, free to wed a Knight or Lord of her choosing? Then again, it would not be of her choosing now would it? "We will talk of matters, later."

"Of course," Robb nodded and lifted his arm, ready to guide her and the Imp inside. "But first," he paused and turned behind them as Jory Cassel came out from a door.

"Jory," Sansa smiled and was ready to go to hug him. Before she could, her eyes turned to see who walked in behind Jory. She covered her mouth in shock. Her watery eyes turned to her brother, who nodded and slowly released her hand. She took a slow step forward before falling to her knees. "Lady!"

Lady yelped excitedly and bounded towards her.

Robb smiled as Lady licked Sansa's face and nudged her body with her snouth, all the while Sansa laughed and wept happily. Behind him, Grey Wind, came to stand at his side. A wolfish grin present on the wolf as well as he witness his sister.


End file.
